


Once Upon a Time in the Woods

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Complete AU, Fluff, Jealously, M/M, Manipulation, Stiles' father is dead, Such a slow burn, The Steter Network Monthly Prompts, and so the relationship starts a little early, but not really in fairy tale terms, like 16ish, lots of pining, nothing but fluff, so I guess kinda underage, stiles gets bit, this is a fairy tale, tricking Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-04-18 16:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14216943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: The village believes in order to be kept safe from their werewolf neighbors, they need to leave a child as an offering every ten years.This time, an orphan child known as 'Stiles' is left in the woods for the pack of wolves.





	1. The Village and the Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is a fairy tale AU and like traditional fairy tales, Stiles is underage. Nothing sexual happens in the story until he's of age in this type of world and you won't read the sex, so sorry to those who'll miss it.
> 
> I'm thinking at the start he's 10 and Peter's 25. 
> 
> Oh, and I've read way too much about customs and foods and clothing in the 1500-1600s. If I made mistakes, I'm sorry, but there's only so much I could take.

Once upon a time, a long, long time ago in a land far, far away there was a pretty little village. The people who lived in the village were happy and enjoyed their simple life. There were chores and work, of course, but there was also time for fun and being with their friends.  

The people in the village had jobs. There was a butcher and the man who owns the pub. Many were farmers and even the housewives had gardens they tended to add food to their tables. There’s a man who’s their healer and a woman who also helps people with herbs and potions. Children learn to read and write, enough to enjoy the few books in the town, and of course, to read the bible.

On one side of the village is a small but pretty forest. It’s safe and fun to walk through, cool on warm summer days. People can hunt there, looking for rabbits and squirrels to add to stews. Occasionally, they’re able to find a deer, which is shared among the family members who catch him, giving everyone plenty of meat for some time.

The villagers consider themselves lucky and blessed with their lives. The only dark thing in in their lives is the thing they believe makes them blessed. 

There’s a larger forest on the far side of town. They make sure to leave an open field between their village and the forest, a reminder to everyone that the forest is not theirs.  The forest, and the village beyond it, belongs to the wolves.

For as long as anyone remembers, and even longer, the forest has been where the wolves lives. Not ordinary wolves, but wolves that change from animals to people and back again. In either form, the wolves are wild and vicious and if they want, they can destroy the happy, safe life of the village.

Parents have told their children about the wolves and they’ve told their children how there’s a tentative peace between them.

It’s a peace made of sacrifice, the sacrifice from the village, one that’s occurred for a hundred years and more. Every ten years, in order to ensure the wolves don’t attack their village, the village gives the wolves a child.

Parents look at their children and wonder if they’ll be the one given to the wolves when the time comes. While it’s said to be an honor to have your child chosen, of course it’s hard for any parent to give up their child. The village isn’t certain what happens to their children when they give them to the wolves. The wolves are animals, known to be blood-thirsty. The best they can hope for is the children are killed quickly and without too much pain.

There are rumors that some children are allowed to live, and they don’t know how or why. They know sometimes the wolves, in their human form, come into the village to buy items or livestock. And sometimes there’s a child with them who looks familiar, the same coloring as a child who has been given to the wolves years before. They don’t know for sure and they don’t know what the child’s life is like, but sometimes they wonder. Maybe if they were braver, they’d ask.

Some years it’s easier than others. There’s been times when a parent has come to the village leaders and explained that they cannot take care of a child. There might be many children in a family and not enough to keep them all clothed or fed. Or some children are sick and may not live to be adults. The parents cry because they’re good people, certainly, but they leave their child with the village elder knowing their sacrifice is good for all.

As the tenth year comes up and it’s time to give the wolves their offering, the elders know who they will offer. There’s a boy who is an orphan, maybe ten years old. His mother died, ranting and screaming, when the boy was still a baby. His father, one of the village’s trusted peace keepers, took care of his child as best he could, but tragically, the father was killed a couple of years ago. He was with others, killed while trying to salvage what he could from a home that had burned down, the roof falling in and crushing him.  

One of the local farmers took in the boy, named Mieczysław, but called Stiles. He was a small boy and able to do some of the easier chores around the farm to earn his keep. He would clean out the horse stalls and the chicken coop, feed the animals and gather eggs. But as the farmer explained to the village leaders, he was slight and weak and would probably never be strong enough to truly work the farm. The farmer’s children were either older or younger than the boy and so wouldn’t feel they’d lost a brother. The child must be miserable without either parent; this way, the village priest says, he could go to the afterworld and be reunited with his parents.

The sacrifice is always done on the summer solstice. Stiles is waiting outside the farmer’s door when the priest and one of the new peace keepers come to collect him on the warm, June morning.

Stiles rubs his eyes and yawns, greeting them with a smile. “Good morning, Father. Good morning, sir. I’m ready to go!”

The two men nod and the priest takes the boy’s hand, to ensure he doesn’t try to run away, and they head for the forest at the edge of the town.

“Is it a long walk? Have you been in the forest before? Is it different than our forest? There’s different animals, right? My Papa said it’s dangerous in those woods, but I guess this is different, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Stiles, there are different things in these woods. Did your master tell you where we’re going today?” the priest asks as they enter the forest.

“Umm…He said I was going to go and live with the wolves. Is that true? I’ve seen pictures of wolves and they don’t look like you could live with them.” He tugs at the priest’s hand and continues his questions. “Am I going to live in a cave? Wolves live in caves, don’t they? How long am I staying with them?”

The other man shakes his head and says, “Hush, boy, you ask too many questions.” He looks around, startling at each sound in the woods. He keeps his hand on the hilt of his knife, because while it won’t do much if the wolves attack, it might protect them if anything else in the woods attacks them.

They hurry along the barely visible path, pulling Stiles along when he lags looking at something or another. He’s finally quiet for over a minute and finally says, “Are we there yet? How far is this? Do we go to the wolves’ house? Do they all live together? How long am I going to stay with them?”

The priest sighs and says, “We’re nearly there, we’ll go to a place where they’ll come get you. You’ll stay… you’ll stay until they tell you to go home. Now hush, boy, don’t talk so much or you’ll annoy them.”

So Stiles remains quiet until they enter a clearing and the priest leads him to one side where there’s a fallen tree. He lets go of the boy’s hand and gives him a gentle shove towards the tree, saying, “Sit.”

Stiles sits on the log and looks up at the two men who brought him here. The log is in the shade and Stiles rubs his arms, chilled in his short sleeved tunic.

The priest looks at what the boy is wearing – it’s not very warm for now, but then again, they aren’t sure how long he would be wearing whatever they send him out in.  Certainly the wolves don’t need fancy clothes if they’re going to eat him or make him a slave. He looks up and says, “The sun will be through the trees soon and you’ll warm up.”

Handing the boy a small leather bag, the other man says, “You stay here now. You don’t want to start your new life making your keepers mad.”

He opens the bag and looks inside at the bits of food there, and the smaller waterskin inside. Stiles nods and wraps his arms around himself, putting the bag on the ground next to him.

The two men nod and turn around to go back to the village. They don’t turn at the small voice behind them that quietly says, “Good bye.”


	2. The Boy Meets the Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Talia go to pick up the offering from the village.

“Come on, Peter, we’re going to be late.”

The man rolls his eyes and heaves a sigh. “I’m coming, Talia. But let me say that I do not plan to enjoy this.”

“So noted, brother,” the woman says and turns, starting down the path through their village. She smiles and nods at the people who drop their gaze when she passes. “I’m sure their gift is already placed and waiting for us.”

Peter catches up to her, slipping a bag over his shoulder. It has water and fruit, in case they get hungry – or more likely in case the sacrifice they find is. “I didn’t realize it was time for this again,” he says, nodding and smiling at friends they pass.

“Hmm, I didn’t actually either. Deaton reminded me a few days ago; he mentioned bringing the child to him to be sure they’re healthy.” Talia leads them past the buildings and into the woods just to the north. The woods are familiar and comfortable to them, a place where they go almost every day.

After a few minutes, Peter says, “You know, I’ll never understand this. How they can do this, what makes them give up a child like this.”

“Well, they’ve been doing it for over a century, Peter. I remember mother talking about it and grandmother too,” Talia says, looking at her brother. “And I think great grandmother as well. I’m not sure how far back it goes.”

“It’s barbaric. I thought they found some type of religion or something. They call themselves Christians or something? This seems so… so pagan or something. Not even that, it’s…” he stops, unable to find words.

“I know, I know. I don’t understand it or why they think they need to continue doing this.  Or why they even started.”

Peter stops and puts his hand on Talia’s arm. “Then maybe we don’t do this. Maybe we simply take the child back to the edge of the woods and send him back. Or if it’s a baby, carry it back and make them stop this nonsense.”

She smiles and squeezes Peter’s hand. “I would, but Peter, think of the last few children they’ve left for us. There was the little girl who had fits, and before that…”

“Oh yes, Erica,” he says, nodding as they continue walking. “And the baby who could barely breathe, our little Scott. It’s astounding. And actually, if they’re supposed to be leaving sacrifices to us, you’d think they would leave a healthy child.”

“Yes, perhaps. But since we don’t really need these children, I’m certainly not going to demand better ones.” She sighs and continues walking towards the traditional meeting place. “If they’re giving us their children who would otherwise die or be neglected – well, Peter, I’m not going to stop accepting them.”

Peter grins. “You’re soft hearted, Talia.” When she turns to him, flashing her red, alpha eyes, he holds up his hands and says, “I’ll never tell. Although I don’t think there’s many that don’t know.”

“Well, that’s a reputation I can live with. Come on, we’re nearly there.”

 

It’s just a few more minutes until they reach the clearing and they enter quietly so not to startle whomever is there.

The boy looks up and gives a tremulous smile. “Hello. Are you the wolves? You don’t look like wolves, maybe you should go away because there’s supposed to be wolves coming and you might get hurt.”

“While we thank you for your concern, I think we’re in the right place,” Peter says, chuckling. He steps forward slowly and kneels in front of Stiles, careful to stay back by an arm’s length. The boy has dark hair cut very close to his head. His face is attractive, a little thin, with a turned up nose and a sprinkle of dark moles, and his eyes are bright and curious as he watches the two people in front of him. “My name is Peter and this is my sister, Talia. She’s also called Alpha. And what’s your name?”

“Mieczysław.” He looks at the two adults and watches them try to puzzle out his name.

“Mee-she…” Talia attempts to repeat the name the boy just said.

“People call me Stiles. Only my papa was able to say my name right.” His scent turns sorrowful as he looks at them.

“Mieczysław,” Peter says with perfect pronunciation.  “It’s an interesting name and quite a lot for such a young man. It means… glory?”

Stiles smiles and says, “Maybe? I think Mama said sword. That’s like a real big knife.”

“Ah,” Peter says, smiling over his shoulder at Talia, “I’ve heard of those. So tell me, Mieczysław, how old are you?”

“I think I’m… ten? I had a birthday when I was eight and Papa got me a tart with apples in it! It was so good.” There’s a dreamy look in his eyes that goes away quickly when he continues, “That’s the last birthday I remember, but I must have had them, right? I think two more, so yes, I’m ten.”

“Ten, that’s a very good age. We have a very nice home for you in our village and you’ll share it with another boy who’s twelve. How does that sound?” Talia asks, sitting down at the far end of the log. “His name is Scott, which isn’t nearly as special as your name, but he’s a lot of fun and I think you’ll like him.”

“All right,” Stiles says and stands up, brushing off his bottom with one hand. He picks up his sack and takes Peter’s hand. “Okay, let’s go.”

“How long were you here, Mieczysław? I hope you didn’t wait too long,” Talia says, leading the way back to their own village.

“Umm,” Stiles stops and points up to the trees. “The sun was there when we got here and now it’s there.”

“A couple of hours, they left him here like this?” Peter mutters. “Humans!”

“I’m fine though, I knew to wait,” Stiles answers and tugs on Peter’s hand. “We’re going?”

“Yes, let’s go home,” Peter says, grinning at his sister, who just raises an eyebrow and turns to leave.  

“Peter will show you around your new village. Do you have any questions now?” Talia asks over her shoulder.

“Hmm. Do we have a long walk? And are you really wolves, you don’t look like wolves at all.”

Peter looks down at the boy whose scent is only curious. “We have a ways to walk. If you get tired, let me know and I can carry you. And yes, we are the wolves.” He flicks out his claws and shows them to Stiles.

Stiles stops walking and reaches out his hand to take Peter’s wrist, bringing his hand closer to his face. “My goodness! You have big claws. Can I touch one?”

“If you want,” Peter answers. “Be careful, they’re sharp.”

“I will be.” Stiles nods and reaches out, running a small finger on the claw. “Is this how you’re a wolf? Is there more?”

“We’ll show you at home,” Talia says, glancing towards the path they’ve been walking on. “There’s a lot for you to see, and it’s nice that you’re not scared, Stiles.”

The boy shrugs and takes Peter’s hand again, turning it over to look at his regular, human nails. “I think if you were going to hurt me, you would have already. I hope that’s true.”

He looks up at Peter who winks at him. “You won’t be hurt, not if we can help it.”

“I believe you,” Stiles answers. “So are you a wolf-man? Or a man-wolf? Is Talia a wolf? Is everyone where you live a wolf-man? Or wolf-woman? Are there wolf children? Do you have…”

“We call ourselves werewolves. And yes, Talia is a wolf as well, we call her Alpha. That means she is the leader of all of us.” Peter gives Stiles a stern look and says, “We’ll answer all your questions when we’re at home.”

The boy huffs his disapproval, but doesn’t say anything for a few minutes while they keep walking. Finally he digs in the bag over his shoulder and pulls out a small bread roll. “Peter, would you like to share my bread? It’s pretty good, my mistress made it.” He holds it out to Peter and admits, “I ate all the cheese, I’m sorry. But we can share this!”

“Thank you, Mieczysław,” Peter answers and tears off a small piece handing the bigger part back to the boy. “That’s a very nice thing to do.”

 “You’re welcome,” Stiles says and shoves half of the roll in his mouth. “Is there bread like this at your house? Who cooks? How many people…”

“Please don’t talk when you’re eating,” Peter interrupts him. “And we’ll answer your questions when we’re at home. Let’s just enjoy the nice walk and the forest.”

Stiles huffs again and eats the remainder of his roll, looking around the unfamiliar forest, and never looking back.

 


	3. The Boy and his Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles meets Scott and moves into his new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy and overwhelmed by the positive feedback on this fic! Thank you so much and I hope everyone likes where this goes.

When the three gets back to the wolves’ village, Talia gives her brother’s arm a squeeze and pats Stiles on the head. “I’ll see you both later. Welcome to your new home, Stiles.”

The boy looks around and then turns to Peter, sighing loudly. “It looks like my old village! Just houses and shops and stuff. I thought it would have, I dunno, wolf houses. Caves maybe?”

“Sorry to disappoint, pup, but this is home.” Peter takes his hand again and leads him to a small house off the center square. “We thought you could live with Scott; he was from your old village, too, although he came here very young and doesn’t remember it.”

“Aren’t I living with you?” Stiles asks, squeezing Peter’s hand. “We shared bread and everything.”

“No, I think someone closer to your age may be more fun. And here we are.”

Peter knocks once and the door is pulled open by a young boy with floppy black hair and a huge smile.  “Welcome! Hey, Peter, come in. I’m Scott!”

“Good day, Scott. This is our new packmate, his name is Mieczysław, but he goes by Stiles,” Peter says, giving Stiles a gentle push into the small house.

Stiles gives Scott a timid smile, taking a step back towards Peter. “Hello. Thank you for letting me stay here.” He looks around the room, which is bright and clean with a woven rag rug on the floor, a couple of chairs with plump cushions around a square table. There’s a long bench against one of the walls that looks comfortable, covered with more cushions. A small tapestry hangs on one wall, a picture of a farm with sheep grazing in a field. Windows are on both side and what looks like another room is next to this one. “Your home is nice.”

“It’s our home now -- you’re my brother!” Scott exclaims, grabbing Stiles by the arm and pulling him along. “Come on, I’ll show you around!”

“Mieczysław, I’ll be back to pick you up in a little bit to take you around the village.” Peter smiles at them both and says, “Try to rest, I think you’ve already had a long day. I’ll see you later.”

 

“So this is our main room where we can play and we do our lessons here,” Scott says and pulls Stiles into another room. “This is our bedroom. It’s where we sleep, of course.”

Stiles looks around at the small room. There’s two beds against opposite walls with a window in between them. There’s also a shelf in the room, with clothes on the top two shelves and the bottom two are open.

“I left the bottom ones open for you,” Scott says, seeing the boy looking around. “I didn’t know how big or little you’d be. We can change them if you want, I don’t mind the bottom shelves.”

“No, it’s fine, thank you. I don’t have anything to put on them actually,” he says and looks at the two beds. “Where do you want me to sleep?”

“Oh, that’s my bed,” Scott says pointing “and that’s yours. I hope that works. They’re pretty comfortable, I helped stuff the mattresses last summer. They have wool inside and it’s really soft. You don’t pee the bed, do you?”

Stiles pulls back, trying not to let this older, slightly bossy boy offend him. He thinks Scott means well; he doesn’t seem like someone with a mean bone in his body. “No! I don’t, I haven’t for a while.”

“How old are you? I’m 12 and my birthday is in May, so I already had it.” Scott sits on his bed, which gently rocks as he sits.

“Ten, I’m ten,” Stiles says, nodding. “And I haven’t peed the bed for a long time.”

“That’s good.” He stops and looks at the younger boy. “I was told that we should try to take a nap, that you might be tired. From the walking and all. Talia and Peter didn’t know how old you’d be, but they thought… Are you tired?”

Stiles shrugs and says, “I don’t know. Maybe. I got up early so I could be ready to go, ‘cause it was a long walk here. And I guess I didn’t sleep a lot the last couple of nights. But it’s kinda early…”

Scott yawns huge and loud, stretching his arms over his head. “Well, I’m sort of tired and I could use a nap.”

“Maybe just a little bit. I _did_ get up early,” Stiles says, yawning back as Scott grins.

“Great!” Scott moves over to Stiles’ bed and pushes him down. “We can sleep on your bed, it’ll make it more comfortable and get rid of the wooly smell.”

“What…what are you doing?” Stiles asks as Scott moves him around so the older boy is behind him and pulls Stiles into his chest. “Don’t you have a bed? It’s right there --”

“Sure, but this is good, cuddling is good. We all like to sleep together when we can. It just feels… it’s nice is all. Everyone together, it feels secure and everyone’s comfortable and … you’ll like it when you’re turned.”

Stiles rolls over so he can look at Scott and asks, “Turned? What’s that mean? Like turned into a wolf? Are you a wolf?”

“Uh huh.” Scott’s eyes turn bright yellow and glow for a second before they switch back to the normal, warm brown. “It’s good, I guess you’ll be turned into a wolf, too. Just about everyone here is a wolf.”

“Does it hurt? When they turn you?” Stiles asks quietly, biting his lip to keep it from quivering.

Scott rubs his head on Stiles’ hair and says, “I don’t remember, I was real little. But if it does, it doesn’t hurt for long, I know that.”

“Are we the only boys here? Are there adults who take care of us? Do we take care of ourselves?” he asks, and Scott can tell he’s getting himself upset, there’s a smell to someone who’s upset; that’s one of the first things he was taught.

“No, there’s other kids here, boys and girls both. Some around our age, you’ll meet them. And for adults, there’s Miss Morrell; she teaches us reading and sums and sometimes history things, too. And she checks in on us. She kind of takes care of a few of us here, so she doesn’t live in anyone’s house, she has her own house -- but she comes in to be sure we have what we need. A lot of adults do that. We’re not alone, Stiles, if that’s what’s worrying you. It’s like having a whole lot of parents.”

Stiles shrugs and whispers, “I’m not really worried, I’m just…I want to understand and I don’t want anyone to be angry with me. I don’t want to upset anyone and get hit with the switch.”

“Hit with the switch?” Scott asks, pushing back so he can look at Stiles’ face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone hit with something – no one gets hit. If you’re bad, Miss Morrell will talk with you about why what you did was wrong. And if you’re _really_ bad, Talia will talk with you, but even then she’s nice.” He pulls Stiles towards him, moving him so Stiles’ head is resting on his shoulder. “No one will hurt you, I promise. You’ll be safe here, and I’m your brother now so you can count on me. If anyone tries to hit you, I’ll… I’ll bite them!”

“Okay, thank you. I want to trust you,” Stiles whispers and wraps his arm around Scott, overwhelmed and feeling exhausted by the entire day. “I never had a brother and I guess I have one now.”

 

The boy isn’t sure how long he sleeps in his new bed with his new brother, but he wakes up when Peter comes back. He checks in the mirror to be sure he looks clean and awake.

“Are you ready to go see the village, Mieczysław?” Peter asks, opening the door to lead them outside. “It might be a little boring, but I hope you like it.”

Stiles grabs his hand, smiling up at Peter. “Yes, please. Thank you for showing me around. And thank you for giving me my brother, I like him.”

“Good, we like him, too,” Peter says, smiling at Scott, who yawns and scrubs his eyes.

“Bye, Stiles! See you later!” he calls, waving. When they’re out of sight, Scott shuts the door and Stiles continues to walk with the wolf.


	4. The Boy in the Wolves' Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles starts meeting people in the village and getting settled in his new home.

As they walk, Peter points out his house and Talia’s. “Hers is bigger of course. First because she’s the alpha and also her three children live there. We like to stay close to our families,” Peter explains. “It’s not uncommon to live with your parents, and your children or cousins.”

Stiles nods, looking at the buildings when Peter points out the trading center and the home where the healer lives.

“We’ll see him later, so he can check and make sure you’re healthy,” Peter tells him. “I’m sure you are, so we’ll just be double-sure. But before that, we’ll have a little bit to eat.”

They enter a building full of tables with people talking, eating and playing dice games. Stiles stays close to the wolf as he finds them a small table and he keeps his head down as people say hello to Peter.

It’s not long before a woman comes over to their table, smiling at them both. “Good afternoon, Peter. I hope you and your friend are both hungry.”

“Hello, Natalie. This is Mieczysław; he’s from the human’s village and he’s with our pack now.” She looks a little confused and Peter smiles and adds, “He’s called Stiles.”

“Welcome, Stiles. I’ll bring you both some lunch.” She touches his shoulder and then she’s gone.

“You don’t need to keep calling me Mieczysław if you don’t want to. No one did after my papa died.”

“I’ll call you Stiles if you want me to; but I don’t _dislike_ calling you Mieczysław, if you like it,” Peter tells him.

“It’s fine,” Stiles says and Peter notes he blushes. “I like the way you say it.”

Natalie comes back then with a tray that has two steaming bowls of stew and a plate of bread with butter. “Eat up and let me know if you want more.”

Stiles shuts his eyes as he sniffs the food and tries not just put his face in it, it smells so good. “Thank you, ma’am,” he tells Natalie. He looks over to see if Peter’s started eating yet and quietly says, “I don’t have any money you know. To pay for this.”

Peter shakes his head and pierces a piece of carrot. “You don’t need money. You’re a child and you need adults taking care of you. Now eat your stew, it’s rabbit and there’s vegetables and it’s delicious. Eat up. And there’s more if you want it.”

The boy looks around and sees a couple of people watching them, but they’re smiling or at least they don’t look angry with him, so he picks up his spoon and takes a bite. Peter’s right, it’s delicious and Stiles quickly eats all of it and uses some bread to get the last bit of broth. “This was good, thank you. I can do work, you know for my meals and my keep. I worked at my old home and I’m not very strong yet, and I’m barely worth giving meals to, but I try and maybe I’ll be worth all the trouble someday.”

Peter takes a breath and can’t contain a small growl in his chest. Stiles sits back in his seat dropping his eyes and trying not to look how Peter’s glow a bright blue.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Peter tells him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m not mad at you, I’m angry that you haven’t been allowed to be a child.” He puts a finger under Stiles’ chin, lifting it until Stiles meets his eyes. “You’ll find that children are very important to us, and now that you’re ours, you’re important, too. I’m sure Miss Morrell will have some chores for you – making your bed and sweeping your room, but for now you have time to be a child.”

Natalie comes back and squats in front of Stiles, smiling as she says, “It’s nice to see you here, Stiles. You can come in anytime you want to, alright? I’ll always have a snack for you.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says, glancing at Peter to see if what she’s saying is true. He’s smiling so the boy thinks it just might be.

 

“Do we go to the healer now?” Stiles rubs his full tummy, looking at the buildings and shops they pass, trying to go as slow as possible. Both to look at everything new and also, he’s not anxious to see a healer. He knows they sometimes do things that hurt.

“We will,” Peter tells him, “but first, we have to make a stop to get you some more clothes. Here we are.”

They enter another building, the one Peter pointed out earlier as the trader’s. Inside, there’s shelves against a wall, going from the floor to the ceiling. There’s stacks of clothing and other bolts of material. There’s shelves with tools, and some with boots and shoes. On one shelf there’s paper and books and on another there’s jars Stiles recognizes as medicines. There’s plates and mugs and things to look at from corner to corner.

A large, dark haired man comes from behind a counter and looks them up and down. “Hale. And good afternoon to you, young man. I think you’re new here, aren’t you?”

“Good afternoon, Bobby. Bobby Finstock, this is Stiles, and today is his first day here. He’s from the human’s village,” Peter answers, knowing that the other man will understand. “He’ll need a couple sets of clothes, just some of everything.”

“I can do that. Let’s see how big he is.” Finstock shuts one eye, looking at Stiles up and down. “Yeah, I can get him everything. You want shoes?”

Peter looks at Stiles’ feet and asks, “How are your shoes? We should get you a new pair.”

“I’ll get him everything then. Except a coat, if you want to wait until it gets colder? Boys his age grow like weeds, don’t’cha, son?” Finstock could look scary, with wild looking hair, but he also looks friendly and Stiles thinks he’s going to trust him.

“I think so, just make sure you have something with long sleeves,” Peter says. “Send it over when you have everything, no rush. We’re going to see Deaton.”

“Ah, that’ll be fun. Don’t worry too much, he’ll poke you and make you jump around, but he doesn’t really hurt you,” Finstock tells Stiles, giving him a friendly, if slightly too big, grin and a quick rub on his shoulders.

“Thank you, sir,” Stiles answers quietly, trying to step behind Peter. Finstock seems like he’ll be a friend, but now Stiles is getting nervous about Deaton.

 

Deaton doesn’t look scary; he’s not quite as tall as Peter, has dark skin and a kind expression. His shop smells of herbs and spicy things, and glass bottles line the walls. But still, Stiles doesn’t like healers – they did nothing for his mother when she was sick and couldn’t help his father when he was injured. 

Peter seems calm enough though when he introduces them. “Alan, this is Mieczysław. He came from the human’s village this morning.”

“Hello, Meese… Meech…” Deaton smiles and says, “Let me hear it again, I’ll get it.”

Stiles shakes his head and grins. “You don’t have to, you can call me Stiles, most people do.”

Stiles recognizes the look of relief on his face, he’s seen it before. “Well, if that’s alright with you, I think I will. I’m Alan Deaton, and I’m going to give you a quick exam to make sure you’re healthy. Start you out right here.”

He glances at Peter and then shrugs. “I guess so. Will it hurt?”

Peter smiles, showing his fangs and says, “It better not.”

Deaton chuckles, shaking his head as he turns and puts some items on the table next to him. “Peter’s being protective, eh? Well, he’s telling the truth, this won’t hurt, I promise.”

After that he looks in Stiles’ ears and his eyes, up his nose and down his throat. He measures his height and weight and makes him touch his toes and cough. Stiles spits on a piece of paper and pees in a cup. Nothing hurts except when he pokes Stiles’ finger with a pin, letting the blood drop on a piece of glass.

“What do you do with that?” Stiles asks, with his fingers stuck in his mouth.

“Oh, look at it, see what it tells me,” Deaton says, putting it to the side along with his other samples.

“And your verdict?” Peter asks, moving to Stiles’ side.

“Overall, he’s pretty healthy. He needs to gain a bit of weight and drink a lot more water. I’d say he should have more food, more sunshine and lots of rest,” he answers, smiling as he pats Stiles on the shoulder.

“So do you think he’s healthy enough for the bite?”

Deaton takes a breath and studies Stiles until the boy squirms nervously. “I’d suggest you give him a little time – as I said, let him rest and gain a few pounds. There’s nothing seriously wrong with him, but let him build up his strength a little bit.”

 

They walk a little more, Peter showing Stiles where the bakeshop is, the pub (where Stiles is way too young to go), the public horse barn, and the building that serves as the local school room. Stiles knows some of these from his old village, and he also notes that people here seem… happier.

By the time they get back to his new home, Stiles is yawning and ready to sit down for a bit. But before he gets his rest, Finstock meets them outside with a large package wrapped in brown paper.

“Got your supplies!” he crows, handing Peter the bundle. “Pants and shirts and shoes and socks and everything our newest resident needs!”

“Thanks, Bobby, that was fast.” Peter gives it to Stiles, trying not to smile at the small boy and the large bundle. “Scott’ll help you put that away. I think Miss Morrell will come by later to meet you and see to your dinner.”

Stiles nods, stifling a yawn with his fist. “Thank you for taking me out and for the food and the clothes and… And thank you, Mr. Finstock.”

Peter bends down, giving Stiles a hug, and rubbing his cheek against Stiles’. Stiles has been touched a lot today and this hug from Peter is wonderful, warm and caring. “Don’t worry about it, Mieczysław, it was my pleasure. I’ll see you tomorrow, is that alright?”

Stiles nods again and watches the two men walk off together in the direction of the pub.

Inside his new home, Scott pulls him into their bedroom and helps unpack his new clothes, admiring everything as they put them on his shelf. “This stuff is nice, Mr. Finstock seems to get a lot of stuff, I think he makes some of it and some other people make it and sell it to him? I dunno.  And you went to eat, right? Isn’t Natalie nice? She comes and checks on me sometimes. Oh and did Peter tell you that Miss Morrell is coming over? She’s real nice, too, she’s Mr. Deaton’s sister and she’s a teacher.  Do you know how to read, I didn’t ask you. I understand if you don’t, cause you’re kinda young and she’ll teach you. And teach you numbers and stuff, too.”

Stiles stands and looks at the stacks of clothes sitting on the shelf. His shelf, he has his own shelf here and clothes, too. New things, not hand-me-downs like he’s had for the last year. “I can read a little, and count a little. I had to count the horses and things where I used to live. To be sure they were all in their stalls and stuff.”

Scott sits on the edge of his bed, while Stiles sits on his bed, a bed of his own. “That’s, that’s good, I guess. Miss Morrell is a good teacher, I think. I mean, she is the only one that I’ve ever had, but _I_ _think_ she’s good. We go to her house and do lessons three times a week. If the weather is nice, we get lessons outside!”

 

Miss Morrell comes over towards dusk while Scott and Stiles are wrestling on the floor. Scott pulls himself free of the smaller boy and yells, “Food!”

“Yes, I brought you both some dinner, you poor things. I’m sure you were starving to death.” She smiles as she puts a tray with sandwiches, fruit, and cups of milky tea on their table. “Scott, be careful with Stiles. You know he’s human and not as strong as you.”

Stiles tries to straighten his hair and clothes and looks at their dinner. He suddenly feels shy looking at her, a woman who’s so friendly to him. She’s slender with dark hair and dark skin like Mr. Deaton, but so much prettier. “Thank you for dinner, ma’am,” he says quietly, sitting across from Scott at the table, where Scott’s already half-way through his sandwich.

“You’re welcome, Stiles,” she replies and sits in the other chair in between the two of them. “I think you should take a day or so to become comfortable here and then we can start some lessons. Did Scott tell you about school?”

“Um hm,” Scott answers, nodding vigorously with his mouth full of fresh blackberries.

Miss Morrell shakes her head at him and looks at Stiles. “I hope you don’t pick up any bad habits from Scott.”

“Hey!” Scott exclaims, and pushes the plate of fruit towards Stiles. “I’m not that bad! And I promise I’ll help Stiles with his school work and chores.”

“Good, I know you will.” She reaches over to scruff his hair. “Do you have any questions I can answer for you, Stiles? I’m sure today has been … a little overwhelming?”

Stiles nods and makes sure his mouth is empty before he says anything. “It’s been fine; things are new, but everyone’s been friendly. Scott says there’s other children our age or around our age?”

She reaches for a berry and thinks for a minute before answering, “Yes, there’s a few children. You’ll probably meet them tomorrow or for lessons. They’re around your age, maybe a little younger or older.”

“That’s good. Are you wolf?” he asks her. “I’m not the only human here, am I?”

“I’m a human and so is my brother, Alan.” Seeing no recognition in his eyes, she clarifies, “Deaton? He’s the healer, for both people and animals here. I think you met him?”

“Oh, yes. He listened to my heart and stuff.”

She smiles and says, “That’s what he does. Other questions, Stiles?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? But it’s like everything jumping around in my head and I can’t think of what I want to ask, you know?” He scratches his head and looks over to Scott, who looks as concerned as he can while filling his mouth with blackberries.

“I can answer questions,” Scott says, wiping some juice off his chin with the back of his hand. “You just have to let me know what your questions are.”

“You can ask Scott, or me or Peter or anyone else if you have questions. Most everyone here knows you’re ours now and they’ll be looking out for you. I know this is all new and probably frightening to you.” She reaches over and cups his cheek with her hand. “Scott’s been living here by himself for a few weeks. He used to live here with a man named Jordan, but he’s moved to another village. So I’m sure Scott’s glad you’re here now.”

He tries to stay still and not just let his head fall into her hand. It feels like forever since he’s been touched by a gentle hand, and even though he has questions about other villages, he just wants to stay still and let her touch him. “Yes,” he whispers. “I’m fine, but I’ll ask if I need to.”

Miss Morrell smiles at the both and pets a hand through Scott’s hair. “I’m going to leave, but I’ll see you both tomorrow. Scott, why don’t you introduce Stiles to your classmates and we’ll plan on class later in the week?”

“Sure, I’ll show you all the good stuff and where we’re not supposed to go and everything!”

Miss Morrell sighs and pulls both boys into a hug. “Don’t get into too much trouble, please? I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast. Now go to sleep you two.”

 

Stiles thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep with everything so new and exciting. But the minute he puts on his new sleep shirt and his head hits his soft, new pillow, he’s asleep, his new brother breathing quietly besides him.


	5. The Boy's Life with Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets used to living in the village and he gets the bite.

The next few weeks are full of activity as Stiles learns about his new home and life in the wolves’ village – now his village.

Scott shows him around and introduces him to the other children who live there. There’s Jackson, who is a year older than Scott and very bossy. Kira’s nice and her family has cows and a big garden and they grows a lot of the vegetables Natalie uses in her meals. Boyd isn’t very talkative, but he’s friendly to Stiles and helps him with his reading. Cora’s kind of pushy and Peter has to remind her to be careful with him as he’s still human. There’s a couple of younger kids, too, Liam and Mason and a couple of others. Scott says they’re too young to play with, but Stiles plays with them when Scott’s busy.

Classes are two or three days a week, sometimes in Miss Morrell’s house, which contains the school room. As Scott said, when the weather’s warm sometimes they have classes outside. In addition to reading and math she teaches them history, telling stories that Stiles at first thought couldn’t be true.  

“How many villages are there?” he asks her as they walk down a path through the woods going away from his old village. “There’s another one out there? And then another?”

“There’s many little villages like ours – well, maybe not exactly like ours, but similar. And there’s also cities, which are larger and have many more people.” She shakes her head and says, “Maybe one of you will go there one day; I think it’s too busy and loud. It’s not a place that I like, but many people do.”

“I think I like it here,” Stiles says and runs ahead down the path trying to catch a rabbit. He fails, of course and comes back to walk next to Scott and Miss Morrell. “When I’m a wolf, will I be able to catch rabbits?”

“I can!” Scott answers before Miss Morrell can say anything. “And when it’s a full moon, we can go out and hunt together. I bet we could catch a deer!”

“When am I going to become a wolf?” Stiles asks Miss Morrell. It’s become the only thing he can think of, especially when he sees people with their eyes flashing or claws or fangs. A woman yelled at Finstock and he showed his fangs and she flashed her eyes and Stiles was delighted.

Miss Morrell just ruffles his hair and says, “Soon, I think. Ask Peter.”

 

Peter kneels next to Stiles and studies him carefully. He turns Stiles around and makes thoughtful noises as he looks him up and down. He picks the boy up and gives him a little shake and then squeezes his bicep. “Hmm, it does look like you’ve gained a pound or two.”

“And look, my pants are getting short, too!" he calls, holding his leg out for Peter to look at. “That means I’m getting taller.”

“And you’re getting brown as a nut, probably from playing outside so much.” Peter steps back and crosses his arms over his chest. “How are you sleeping?”

“Good! I love my bed and I have a pillow and everything and I shut my eyes and fall right to sleep.” Stiles sighs and says, “It’s so nice, Peter. I like sleeping with just the blanket; everything’s clean and I don’t get too warm.”

Peter’s not sure what that means, but he doesn’t like the sound of it. “How did you sleep before you came here, Mieczysław?”

“In the barn, ‘cause that’s where I worked, I thought I told you that,” Stiles says, trying not to sound too exasperated. A cat carrying a large mouse runs past and catches his eye and Peter taps his shoulder to get his attention back.

“You slept in the barn? All the time?” he asks, taking Stiles’ hand and walking back towards their house, ready to talk with Talia about the possibility of the bite.

“Yes. It was nice in the winter because I slept in the barn with the horses and so it was warm. But in the summer it could get a little too warm, so sometimes I just slept outside,” he answers, voice very casual. “Plus sometimes it would smell, cause you know, poop.” It was normal at the time, but so different than now.

Peter can’t help but growl when he thinks about how this boy was growing up in the human’s village. While he’ll never understand how they can just give away a child, he’s glad they gave away this one.

“You’re growling again,” Stiles says, giving his hand a squeeze. “I don’t like talking about before because it always makes you growl.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you. I’m not mad at you,” Peter assures him, smiling down at the boy.

Stiles shrugs and says, “I know. You’re never mad at me, ‘cause I’m your favorite, right?”

The wolf chuckles and says, “I don’t have favorites, Stiles, I like all the children in the village the same.”

“Don’t you like me more than…more than Jackson?”

Peter rolls his eyes and says, “Perhaps more than Jackson, he is a little bit rough.”

Stiles pulls Peter along, anxious to get to Talia’s house. “Do you like me more than Malia?”

“She’s very sweet, isn’t she?” he says, grinning at Stiles’ scowl. “She’s not sweet to you though?”

“She snarls a lot. Kinda like you I guess,” Stiles answers. “How about Lydia? Or Sco--”

“Enough now, we’re here. Let’s talk to Talia and see if she thinks it’s time for you to get the bite.”

 

Talia looks from her brother to the boy in front of him, noting how Peter keeps a protective hand on his shoulder. He’s never been this caring for any of the village children, not even his own nieces and nephews. Maybe he dotes a little on Cora, but that’s not surprising. She’s mischievous and can already challenge Peter for most judgmental eyebrows.

“So you think he’s ready for the bite?” she asks Peter.

Peter guides Stiles to a chair in front of her, standing next to him and smiling proudly. “I do and Deaton agrees as well. He said he’s pleased with how well Mieczysław is doing; he’s gained some weight and he’s actually gotten over an inch taller in the last few weeks.”

She nods, looking at him and how his pants are getting a little short, his thin, tanned ankles showing. “Stiles, how do you feel about it? Do you think you’re ready? Do you want the bite today?”

His swallow is loud and he glances over his shoulder at Peter. “Um hm. I think so. Yes.”

“What’s your concern, Stiles? Do you have questions?” Talia asks, kneeling in front of him so he’ll look her in the eyes.

“Is it going to hurt? The bite? Bites hurt, don’t they? One time a cat bit me and it hurt. It hurt a lot,” he says and holds his hand out, pointing to a small white scar on the webbing of his thumb. “Look, see that? That’s where it bit me. Maybe it was my fault, I tried to pick her up and she had kittens and probably didn’t want me to touch her.”

Talia and Peter both look, taking care to look serious and not smile. “Well that does look like a serious injury.” She looks at Peter who raises an eyebrow at her. “I’ll tell you the truth, Stiles. The bite will hurt initially. But it doesn’t hurt for long and after that, you’ll be a werewolf. Like me and Peter and Scott.”

“Where do you bite me?”

“I’m thinking his thigh,” Talia says, more to Peter than to the boy. “He’s small and I don’t want to hurt him if I bite his side.”

“His arm would be too small as well.” He gives Stiles a reassuring smile and tells his alpha, “Yes, I think that would be good. If you could bite Scott when he was so little, I’m sure this will be fine.”

“I think so, too. Peter, why don’t you hold Stiles on your lap. That way you can support his leg.”

Stiles’ face pales under his tan as he looks at Peter. “I’m scared, Peter. I don’t like being hurt.”

“It’ll only hurt for a minute, and since I’ll be holding you, I’ll take your pain,” Peter reassures him. He unties Stiles’ belt, helping him step out of his pants. His tunic is long enough that everything’s covered, but Stiles pulls it down anyway, smelling nervous, but excited as well.

“I’ll be as gentle as possible and I’ll let you know when it’ll happen. Peter will take your pain and you’ll fall asleep right afterwards. We’ll take you to your bed and when you wake up, you’ll be wolf,” Talia explains, her hand warm on Stiles’ shoulder. “Tomorrow we’ll all be ready to help you learn about your new strength and in a couple of weeks, when it’s the full moon, you’ll be able to run with in the forest with us. Does that sound good?”

Peter picks Stiles up, and holds him tightly, letting one bare thigh face Talia. “I’m looking forward to that. And now when you play with your friends, you’ll be almost as strong as Jackson.”

“Okay, I’m ready. I’m not scared,” he assures them both. His heart beat is steadier and he has a little more color in his face, so Peter nods at Talia that they’re both ready.

“And this bite won’t leave a scar on you like your cat bite did.” Talia ruffles his hair and rests her hand around his neck, scenting and soothing him. “The only scar you’ll ever have again is from a mating bite. If you decide to take a mate – you don’t have to, of course, but nothing else will leave scars on you.”

Stiles shifts a little on Peter’s lap, turning to look at Talia. “A mate? That’s like husband and wife, right? Like you and Mister David?”

“Yes, like that. We call them mates, but yes, it’s very much like human husbands and wives.”

He nods rapidly and rests his head on Peter’s chest, sticking his leg out towards Talia. “That’s good. Peter’s going to be my mate, you know. We’ll be… husband and husband?” He sighs and shuts his eyes and whispers, “Alright, you can bite me now.”

She smirks at her brother, enjoying his surprised look. “Well, thank you for letting me know. Both about Peter and that I can proceed.”

Peter holds Stiles around the waist and uses his other arm to hold his head against his chest, keeping him from wiggling and also keeping his eyes covered as Talia readies herself. Talia’s eyes glow red and her fangs drop, and although Peter’s seen it a million times he still ducks his head, resting it in Stiles’ hair.

“I’m going to hold your leg,” she says, voice slightly slurring as she grips the boy’s limb, carefully keeping her claws away from him. “And bite.”

The boy whimpers, pressing harder against Peter’s chest. Peter pets his head and whispers, “Shh, it’s fine, it’s all good, little one.”

“It’s done,” Talia announces, wiping her mouth. “Stiles?”

He lifts his head and sniffs, quickly wiping a tear off his cheek. “It’s done? I’m a wolf?” he asks, looking at his leg. The bite mark stings and is still bleeding slowly. He looks up at Peter and whispers, “It hurts, Peter.” Then he passes out.

“Let’s get him bandaged and back to his house to sleep it off,” Talia says, getting up to get some scraps of cloth to make him a bandage. “If he bunks down with Scott, you can sleep on his bed tonight. Keep an eye on him and let me know if there’s any problems. But I don’t think there will be, he took it very well.”

“He’s a strong, brave boy,” Peter agrees, rubbing a cheek against Stiles’ head. “Thank you for doing this, I know it wasn’t your plan for today…”

“Nonsense, I was just waiting for you and Deaton to give the okay.” She finds his pants, resting them on his chest as Peter picks him up to carry him home. “Go take care of your mate, brother,” she says, grinning, while she rubs her cheek against his.

“Talia…” he sighs and turns. “Open the door, please. And I’ll keep you posted.”

“Night, Peter. Take good care of the newest member of our new pack.”

 

When Stiles wakes up, Scott is wrapped around him, the same way he was on his first day in the wolves’ village. He yawns and runs his nose along Stiles’ cheek. “How are you feeling? You’re alright, you did real good, didn’t he, Peter?”

Suddenly Peter’s next to him, sitting on the edge of Stiles’ bed and Stiles can feel himself relaxing. “Yes, you did very well. Do you feel like sitting up?”

Stiles sits up slowly, with both Peter and Scott studying him. “Why is everything so loud? And it smells -it’s like… I can smell everything.”

Peter chuckles and wraps an arm around Stiles’ shoulder, pulling the boy into his chest, so he can relax with the smell of his pack and his alpha, Talia. “I’m told it’s a little overwhelming, but we can teach you how to ignore it. And to ignore the noises as well. You’re a wolf now, with a wolf’s sense of smell and hearing. You’ll also be able to see more at night.”

“I don’t remember when I got bit,” Scott tells him as he rubs a hand on Stiles’ back. “But I’ll help you learn and stuff.”

“Will I be able to beat Jackson in a fight?” Stiles asks, because some things are important to the boy.

“He’s still bigger than you are and probably stronger than you are…” Peter starts and notices the boy’s face fall. “But you’re stronger than you were and you’ll probably be able to fight a little more evenly.”

Stiles sighs and pulls out of Peter’s embrace, looking at the two wolves next to him. “Alright. Teach me how to be a wolf.”


	6. The Boy Learns to be a Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles learns to be a wolf and volunteers for a job in the village.

Stiles works on adjusting to being a wolf, and being in a village full of werewolves helps. The others are both patient and strong, so Stiles can’t hurt himself or anyone else. On the full moons, he joins them in the forest, running and watching the others so he’ll soon be able to hunt small animals when he’s hungry.

As a wolf, he’s learning how to ignore things he smells and hears. Miss Morrell tells him about privacy for wolves and how when someone is talking quietly, you don’t listen – you just don’t. Scott tells him about scent marking and shares a bed with him when Stiles gets antsy, his wolf still a pup anxious to play and not letting him sleep.

Peter tells him tricks to avoid getting distracted now that his eyesight is better and patiently teaches him how to use his strength and not hurt others or damage his belongings.

 

After several months, he’s got pretty good control and he’s enjoying his new life as a wolf, in his new home in the wolves’ village.  He gets to play with the other children and his lessons are interesting as well. But he’s still a little worried.

One afternoon, when he’s been in the village for close to a year, Stiles knocks on Talia’s door. “Alpha, can I talk with you for a minute?”

“Of course, Stiles, come in and sit down. Would you like some tea?” she asks, reaching for a pot on the corner of the table. Stiles knows she’s busy; she’s the alpha, in charge of everyone and everything in the village. He knows his place as a beta and he’s here to offer his help.

“No thank you, ma’am,” he says, sitting on the edge of the chair facing her. “And I’m sorry to bother you, but I wanted to ask… I can do things, aren’t there things you want me to do? I had chores in my old village, and I can clean, and I can help in the stables with the horses or help with the goats and feed the cows and I was going to learn to milk them and I can…”

“Stiles,” she interrupts gently, reaching over to take one of his hands, currently fisted in his lap. “Stiles, you don’t have to do those things, those are things that adults do – or at least the older children. You’re a child, enjoy being a child for a little longer.”

“I can do things, I’m can be helpful!” he says, keeping his eyes down in case they flash.

“I know you can be, and you are helpful now. Miss Marin says you help her carrying books and cleaning up after dinner. We want you to have a childhood, Stiles, to just be a child. You’re learning a lot; every day you learn more, not only your schoolwork, but you’re learning how to live in the village and how to be pack. That’s important.” She sits back and looks at him, seeing his lips tremble. He doesn’t smell hurt, just frustrated. “But since you want to do more and you have experience with animals, I’ll talk with Peter and maybe you can help him with the horses. Do you know how to feed them?”

He sits up, smiling broadly. “Yeah! Yes, I did that before. I can feed them and I know how to groom them and clean stalls and I can…”

“I’m sure you can, I’m sure you can do all those things. Let me talk with Peter and get you a few things to do. You don’t need to muck stalls, the older children do that. But I’m sure we can find things that you can do that help, but hopefully things that are still fun. Maybe just an hour a day or so.” She leans forward and rubs her cheek gently against his temple, while he shuts his eyes and inhales her calming scent. “You don’t mind working with Peter? Some people are… he can make some people uncomfortable. He’s very plain spoken. Blunt.”

The boy beams, eyes shiny and bright. “Oh, no, ma’am! I like that he says what he thinks. He doesn’t scare me at all. Now, Mr. Finstock -- he’s kind of scary.”

She smiles and doesn’t say that sometimes Finstock overwhelms her, too. “Fine, then, Stiles. Either Peter or I will talk with you in the next day or so. And thank you, Stiles, for wanting to help. Never hesitate to come to me.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” he says, grinning and practically bouncing out the door. He can’t wait to tell Scott that he’s going to help Peter with the horses.

 

The next day is the monthly market day in the village. Of course the shops are open all the time, but for the monthly market, everyone comes out with special things they’ve made to sell or trade. Finstock has shirts and dresses that are just a little fancier than daily wear. There’s booths with pastries and sweets and other booths with toys and books. People sell some of their old things that are new to someone else, and generally, there’s just an air of excitement of something different and festive.

Some of the older wolves go to other villages on their market days and Stiles sees a few people he doesn’t recognize at his market. Wolves and even some humans from nearby villages, looking to buy something different than what they can get at home.

Scott pulls Stiles towards a booth with sweet sugar candy, eager to spend the few pennies he has left from his birthday present on treats for the month. He always shares with Stiles, telling him that he knows Stiles will share with him later.

“Come on, I want to be sure to get some of the candy that has nuts in it! That’s my favorite and …. Oh!”

Stiles nearly runs into Scott’s back when the older boy stops suddenly. “What’s wrong, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he says, nodding and looking over Stiles’ shoulder. “It’s just… Kira’s here with her parents.”

“Where?” Stiles turns around, and Scott grabs his arm pulling him to stand next to a booth with dried beef sticks that smell really good.

“She’s by the book stall.” Scott peeks around Stiles’ shoulder, face turning pink. “She’s so pretty.”

“She has the black hair, right? She is pretty.” Stiles smiles and then turns back to his friend. “She’s looking over here and she’s smiling. Why don’t you go talk with her?”

“I can’t! She’s _too_ pretty, Stiles. She’s the prettiest girl in the village and she’s smart, too. She turns into a fox during the full moon! Her mother does, too, isn’t that amazing?”

Stiles grins, watching Scott watch the girl, his scent sweet and happy. “That is amazing. You should get some candy and go give it to her.”

“No, I can’t. Her mother… I don’t think her mother likes me. I don’t think she likes anyone really, not to talk to her daughter.”

“She does look strict,” Stiles replies, nodding as he looks over and sees the older woman, choosing from a tray of bright red apples. “Maybe we’ll see her later and you can at least say hello? Her mother can’t be mad at you just saying hello.”

“Maybe,” Scott says doubtfully. They go back to the candy booth and Scott buys some nut brittle, giving some to Stiles. “Do you want to go watch the dice game?” Scott asks, nodding towards some men playing at the edge of the square.

“Sure.” Stiles glances back over his shoulder, looking at everyone wandering from booth to booth.

“Who are you looking at?” Scott asks, giving a crooked grin. “Do you like someone? Heather? Or Cora? Or Malia? I think Malia likes you, she always punches you in the arm.”

“She does, and I’ve asked her not to because it hurts.” Stiles says, rubbing his arm as though he can still feel it.

Scott looks at him when his scent gets bitter. “Are you upset? Do you like a girl? Maybe you can talk to her. As long as it’s not Kira!”

“No. I don’t. It’s…” he looks around and no one is paying attention to them. Although the wolves can hear most conversations, they all let people have their privacy when they can. Stiles sighs and says, “I want to tell you, but you might get mad. I don’t want you to not be my friend anymore.”

“Stiles.” Scott says, turning the younger boy to face him. “I will always be your friend and you can tell me anything – _anything_ – and I’ll still be your friend. I’m better than your friend, I’m your brother.”

Stiles takes a breath, steeling himself. “I don’t think I like girls, not like that. I mean I can see they’re pretty and I like them as friends, but I don’t think of them like you do.”

“Oh.” Scott nods and smiles, wrapping his around the younger boy’s shoulder. “Oh, that’s fine, that’s nothing to worry about. So you don’t like girls, so what? Do you like boys like that then?”

“Maybe,” Stiles says quietly, trying to relax now that he knows Scott isn’t mad at him. “I think I do.”

“Is there someone you like? Danny? Tell me it’s not Jackson, because that might make me mad!” He laughs and squeezes Stiles’ shoulder to let him know he doesn’t mean it.

The boy’s nose wrinkle, thinking of the bigger, blond boy. He’s bossy and mean to almost everyone. “No, yuck, it’s not Jackson. It’s nothing really, it’s silly. It doesn’t matter.”

Scott looks at him and takes in his scent, anxious and bitter. “It matters and I’m sure it’s not silly. There’s no reason that a boy wouldn’t like you back. If he likes boys, I guess.”

“I don’t know if he does and anyway, it’s not a boy and it is silly.” He looks around to be sure no one’s looking at him and whispers, “I really like Peter. He’s smart and he’s very handsome.”

“Peter? Hale? Hmm,” Scott says, looking at his friend. “He isn’t mated to anyone. Maybe he could like boys. He is older than you, but I guess that wouldn’t matter. You wouldn’t have children together anyway.”

“No, I guess not,” Stiles answers, less than certain about this. “I haven’t thought that far ahead. I just… I just like him.”

Scott grins and asks, “Is that why you want to work in the stables? So you can be around him?”

“Maybe? I like horses and I like taking care of them. That he works there is just…”

“A happy coincidence? If it makes you happy and Peter wants you to help and Alpha approves, then good for you.” Scott leans forward and whispers, “Hey, do you know where babies come from? Do you know how they’re made?”

“Yes, of course.” Stiles blushes when Scott looks at his chest, noting his heart beat skipping. “I do, I just don’t want to say it.”

“I’ll tell you what I was told. I asked Derek and he told me and he knows ‘cause he’s older.”

“Derek told you? How did you get up the nerve to ask him?” Stiles asks. Derek scares him more than Peter or the Alpha. He always looks like someone made him angry.

“He just told me. So here’s what he told me. A boy and girl both get naked and the boy lies on top of the girl and then the girl gets pregnant. And that’s how babies are made,” Scott says, nodding proudly.

Stiles thinks for a moment and asks, “Does that seem right? Sometimes I saw stuff at the house I was staying at before and … I don’t think there were always babies. Besides, when people shift, they end up naked and that doesn’t make babies.”

Scott snorts and says, “It’s not just being naked, you have to do stuff. On top of each other.”

“Like kissing?” Stiles asks, scratching his head and eating the last bit of brittle Scott gave him. “I don’t know, Scott; I’m not trying to doubt you or Derek, but if it was that, wouldn’t there be a lot more babies?”

“Maybe? You should ask Peter!” Scott exclaims, grinning wickedly.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll ask Miss Morrell. She’s a teacher and an adult, so she probably knows, right?”

Scott licks off his palm to get the last bit of candy, looking at the wrapper sadly. “Good idea. And you have to tell me what she says.”

“Of course, you know I want to share with you.” Stiles stands and pulls Scott up. “Let’s see if anyone wants to play ball or something.”

 

“I think it’s a good idea, Peter. He wants to have more responsibility and he knows animals.” Talia pats one of the horses on the nose, following Peter to the back of a stall.

Peter shakes his head. “He’s still young; he shouldn’t have to do chores like this. And I have two apprentices already, am I supposed to stop training them?”

“No, but there must be smaller things he can do? Get them water or…” She shrugs and looks around, seeing Peter’s smirk. “True, I don’t know exactly what you do here, but I’m sure he could be of help. You started working here when you were little. What were your first jobs?”

“Let me think,” Peter answers, putting the grooming brushes on a shelf. “Checking and hanging up the tack. Sweeping up. Getting our father endless cups of tea.”

They both smile for a moment and Talia says, “Well maybe you could let him do things like that. Nothing too difficult and then let him works his way up to more difficult chores.”

“I suppose so. I could give the other two something a bit more challenging; they may end up moving to another village and could get jobs there, so they could use more training, I suppose,” Peter says, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he walks with Talia back to her house.

“He likes you, you know,” Talia says, quietly. “Come in for a minute?”

“Thank you, yes. For some reason, I’m craving tea.”

She sets the pot to boil by the fire and looks at her brother. “Did you hear what I said? Stiles likes you.”

“Yes, I like him too. He’s very energetic. Smart, too,” Peter answers. He moves around her, going into a cabinet for a plate of cookies she got at the market. “I guess that’s part of my hesitation; I’m not sure he should be working in the stables, he could probably teach or even work with Deaton and perhaps become a healer.”

“If he were interested in that, I’d talk with Deaton. And when I say he likes you, I mean he’s interested in you as a potential partner, Peter.”

He almost knocks over a cup, making her smile. “Talia, don’t be disgusting. He’s a child, he’s just a child.”

Talia takes the cookies from him and pours them both tea. She sits at the small table and studies him for a moment. “He is now, but he’ll grow up, you know. And I could think of a worse mate for you. As you said, he’s smart and he’ll probably be able to keep up with you.”

Peter rolls his eyes and huffs out a sigh. “We both agreed that children should be allowed to be children, right? Play and learn and not be forced to grow up too soon. So he’s what? Ten, maybe eleven? Let’s let him be.”

“Of course,” she agrees, nodding with a small grin. “Until he’s older and you mature. Then we’ll talk about you taking a mate.”

“I’ll let him work with me, small chores like we talked about – and that’s all. If things become strange…”

“If an eleven year old boy makes you uncomfortable, let me know and I’ll deal with it.” She holds up the teapot to ask if he wants more and Peter just shakes his head.

“Thank you for the conversation and the tea.” He ducks down and scents her cheek. “You’re a horrible alpha.”  She flashes her red eyes at him and he shakes his head, walking out the door. “And you’re a horrible person, Tali. Horrible!”

Her laughter follows him as he heads for home.


	7. The Boy Growing Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles learns more about being a wolf, Peter has a birthday and Stiles gets a promotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the great comments, I'm glad people are enjoying this fic. I'm behind in responding to comments, working on it!

After initially grumbling that babies could do his job, Stiles settles into his work. He’s not needed every day, but he’s there more often than not. And when he can, he tries to do more than what’s expected, wanting to impress Peter.

The wolf’s a little hesitant at the start. Not just because of what Talia said about the boy liking him, but also because he’s giving up another bit of control, and Peter doesn’t give up control easily. The two apprentices, Brett and Myla, are happy to offer up some of their work, until they discover it means Peter has more challenging tasks for them to do.

After a time Stiles proves himself indispensable to Peter. He does the work he’s assigned, along with other things to be helpful both to Peter and the other apprentices. He lets the horses out into the field and helps get them in at night. He helps with grooming and feeding as well. The only thing Peter won’t let him do is the heavy cleaning -- that’s still for his official apprentices.

 

The months pass as months do and the boy grows into himself, both boy and wolf. He learns more about controlling his shift, dropping only his fangs or just his claws if needed. By chasing the mice and voles he learns to hunt. Soon he can hunt enough that he goes out with the pack when they work together to take down prey, chasing their target back towards the larger pack members. After a time, he’s able to do the full shift and run with wolves as they look for larger animals during the full moon. He’s still small, just a cub, with softer, fluffier fur. He looks at himself in the mirror, growling and grinning as the gray and black wolf grins back. It feels good to officially be a wolf.

When Stiles catches his first rabbit by himself, he presents it to his alpha. His second rabbit goes to Peter, who thanks him with a bump against his shoulder. Soon all the families in the village have received a rabbit, chased down by Stiles with Scott as his back-up.

 

“Is something wrong, you seem…” Peter sniffs at Stiles’ neck, needing to move closer to get to the boy’s scent over the horse scent that they both almost always carry. “Upset? Sad?” He turns Stiles towards him, tilting his head up. “Talk to me? What’s wrong, can I help? Do you want to speak with Talia?”

“It’s nothing -- nothing important,” Stiles answers, brushing his cheek against Peter’s hand for a brief second. He’s learned to love the touches from the pack, but still, Peter’s affection is the best. “It’s just… I’ve been here for over a year now, haven’t I? We had our solstice festival at the last moon, right?”

Peter nods, remembering the feast they have every summer. It’s to celebrate the summer and thank their gods for their good fortune and also to celebrate the gifts they received from the human’s village. To make sure that their pack members know how valued they are. He smiles, thinking of Stiles’ face when he was allowed a taste of ale, which he is still, technically, too young to enjoy. “Yes, that would be one year for you. I know you know that.”

“So it means I’m a year older. I had a birthday sometime, I don’t really remember it though,” he scratches his head, pulling out a piece of straw that got in somehow. His hair has grown out and is always just a little shaggy. With more regular baths, he doesn’t need to keep it as short to stay clean.

“You had a birthday last solstice, too. Depending on the age of the person who comes to us, they don’t always remember their real birthdays,” Peter says, sitting down on a bench outside one of the stables. The horse inside leans over the door, nipping at Peter’s fingers as he reaches up to pat its nose. “Scott was probably two when we got him, so he wasn’t able to tell us his real birthday. We’ve always treated the solstice as the birthday for our gifts.”

Stiles sits next to him, nudging the older man with his shoulder. “I’m a gift? Poor you, you were cheated,” he says, but his scent is clean and bright and there’s a grin playing on his face.

“I think we did just fine,” he answers, nudging back. “Is that what had you unhappy? Do you remember your birthday or want something else?”

“I think it was in the spring, I know it was usually rainy.” Stiles takes Peter’s hand, studying them both. Peter’s hands, obviously larger, but Stiles fingers are long and thin and he remembers his father having large hands. “My solstice birthday is good, I like that better. Less mud.” He lets go of Peter’s hand and turns to face him. “When is your birthday? How old will you be?”

“Oh, I’m an old, old man. Although I am younger than Talia,” he whispers, poking Stiles in the side, making him laugh and squirm. “Come on, I think you need another riding lesson.” Stiles has been learning to ride, starting on an older, smaller horse and working his way up to the younger, friskier ones.

“Good, I like riding! But you didn’t say when your birthday is. How will I know when to get you your present?”

Peter gets their horses out, letting his staff know they’re going out and making sure they have no questions about what to do next. They don’t, of course, they’ve been working for Peter for a couple of years and are almost ready to go out on their own. Either staying in the village or maybe seeking employment in one of the nearby ones. When they’re both on their horses and starting to walk around the field, he says, “October first. It’s a good time for birthdays, like you said, it’s not too muddy.”

Stiles just nods, whispering, “October first, October first.” He grins, thinking he has a couple of months to plan.

 

It’s not hard to find Peter on his birthday, he’s where he usually is – in the stables with the horses. There’s other smaller barns around the village, of course, but usually those are for cows or sheep. Some families do keep their own horses, but most keep them in the village’s stable under care of the alpha’s family where they couldn’t be safer.

Peter doesn’t really celebrate his birthday -- it’s just another day. He does let himself stay in bed an extra half-hour before a full day at the stables. He takes a hot bath before dinner with Talia and the family and then ends the day with a drink or two at the pub. Maybe a haircut if there’s time. Honestly, the bath is his favorite part of the day, it’s a relaxing treat, especially if the weekend and normal bath night is still a few days away. Humans may not like bathing, but the wolves enjoy them, especially since they can get so dirty running in the forest.

“I brought you tea.” Stiles enters the stable, carefully holding the mug. “I thought you might be ready for another cup.”

“Thank you, Mieczysław.” Peter takes the cup, and inhales the fragrant steam before taking a long sip. “Perfect, thank you, excellent as usual.”

Stiles smiles and nods at Peter’s thanks, then pulls a package from behind his back. “This is for you, for your birthday.”

Peter takes the package and opens the simple, brown paper. “This is a surprise. Unnecessary, but…” He holds up a felted cap, in soft gray. “This is beautiful, Mieczysław, and I can certainly use it.”

“It should be warm, it’s from rabbit fur. I caught the rabbits myself and Mr. Finstock helped me make it,” Stiles says, bouncing on his feet. “We’ve been working on it for a while now. He said he has your head size from other hats, so it should be right. Try it on!”

The hat is slightly snug, just as it should be with room to stretch a bit with wear. “What do you think?” Peter asks, tugging down, making sure his ears are covered. He has hats he wears into town for shopping days, but he can always use another working hat, especially with winter coming up.

“You look good,” Stiles says, blushing and looking away. He chews on his lip, watching Peter take off the hat, putting it into a pocket. “Do you like it? Is it a good birthday present? I wanted it to be special.”

“It is special and yes, I love it.” Peter tugs the boy towards him, giving him a quick, hard hug, scenting his neck. “You didn’t need to, but I’m very glad to get it.”

Stiles melts into the hug, nose against Peter’s neck. There’s a lot of hugs around the village and he takes all of them, even when it’s from one of the younger kids or Mr. Finstock, who is surprisingly huggy underneath his gruff exterior. But a hug from Peter is always the best.

“Welcome,” he answers, finally loosening his grip after Peter does. “I’m glad you like it, it looks good on you. But what doesn’t?”

Peter smiles and takes a long drink of tea. “Thank you again. Now I’m waiting for it to get colder so I can wear it.” He touches his pocket where the hat is. “For now though, I think it’s too warm, especially after the tea. And it’s time to get to work, are you staying?”

“Work? Why would you work today, it’s your birthday, get out. Go home,” he says and tries to shove Peter toward the door.

“You need my help,” Peter exclaims, trying to turn his way back into the stable. “It’s my birthday not a holiday!”

“Leave! I’ll get Myla and Brett and we’ll do everything. Go home, go to the pub, just go!”

 

At first, Peter’s not thrilled he was forced to leave his second home, but after storming around the square for a few minutes, he decides maybe it’s not the worst thing.

He stops at Natalie’s and has a real breakfast, including eggs and porridge, and even a coffee. Suddenly, it feels like this might be a good way to spend his birthday.

 

“Just let me check, c’mon it’s my birthday, you have to.” Peter sounds certain, in spite of the pints of doctored ale, so Jordan just keeps a hand on his arm to support Peter as he makes his way to the stables.

“Everything looks good,” Jordan says, stumbling himself when Peter pulls away. “Horsies in their horsie houses. Stuff on the walls…” He points to the tack, knocking a saddle to the floor. “Sorry.”

Peter slumps on the bench where he started his day. “Don’t worry, nothing damaged.”

“Your assistants or apprentices? They’re good, I think. You had a day without working.” Jordan sits next to him and pulls a flask out of a pocket, holding it out to Peter. “One to help you sleep?”

“Won’t be happy in the morning, but…” He takes a drink and hands it back, shaking his head. “That’s terrible. Did you get it from one of my horses?”

“Maybe,” he replies and then rushes to the door, barely making it outside before he’s ill.

“Best birthday ever,” Peter mumbles, stretching out on the bench and falling asleep.

 

No one talks about it the next day, although there may be a little bit of giggling. Stiles makes sure to keep Peter’s mug full of very strong, very milky tea.

 

In the spring, just before the equinox, Alpha lets Stiles know she wants to meet with him. It’s not a common request, at least not for Stiles, so he’s understandably nervous.

“What do you think she wants? Is she upset? I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong,” he worries, trying to slick down a particularly stubborn cowlick with a bit of spit.

“I think you’re her favorite, or one of them.” Scott brushes off Stiles’ shoulders, getting off the bits of hay and horse hair that he always carries and never seems to notice. Scott’s usually covered in animal hair as well, but he doesn’t notice it on himself.

“I don’t know. She’s always been pleasant to me, but she does scare me.”

Scott nods, as he turns Stiles away from the mirror, tugging on his shirt and making sure his belt is straight and centered. “She should. She’s the Alpha. But Peter’ll stand by you, no matter what.”

“No matter what? What what?” Stiles asks, stepping back, swallowing hard. “You think I’ve done something?”

“No, I just mean… you’ll be fine. Go and find out, don’t keep her waiting! And let me know as soon as you can.” Scott pulls him into a hug, and scenting each other helps calm Stiles – it’s his pack and his brother.

“I’ll tell you as soon as I know!”

 

Peter and Myla are already at Talia’s house, laughing and sipping tea while David sets out biscuits.

“Oh good, you’re here. These just came out of the oven,” David says, pushing a plate towards Stiles. “I know, I know, it’s late for breakfast, but you’re a growing boy.”

Myla rolls her eyes and says, “He’s like a weed, isn’t he, the way he grows!” She pulls the plate towards her and breaks one of the biscuits in half, grinning at him. “You look worried, you smell worried. Stop, please, you’re ruining my breakfast. Post breakfast.”

“Please have some tea and be calm, Stiles,” Talia says, pushing a bowl of honey towards him. “There’s nothing to cause you concern – unless you’re not willing to take on a bit more work.”

Stiles sits up, almost spilling his tea before he sets it on the table in front of him. He chances a look at Peter and sees him smiling. “What… I’m happy to do more, what do you need, Alpha?”

“Brett’s decided to work in the next village over, he’ll be managing their stable there, so Peter needs a new apprentice. And of course he thought of you for that position. Is that something you’re interested in? You’d have more work and a bit more coin.”

Myla snorts and covers her mouth, bowing her head towards Talia. “Sorry, ma’am. I think though he’d want the position. You know, working with Peter and all. And the horses, of course.”

Stiles tries not to blush and ducks his head as well, before he says, “I would love to be a full apprentice. I hope I’ll do as well as Brett for you.”

“I’m sure you’ll do well, you always do,” Peter answers, ignoring the grins going around the room as he pours himself more tea and puts extra honey on his biscuits.


	8. The Boy, the Wolf, and Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Peter talk. Peter and Talia talk. Plans start to jell.

By the time the next summer solstice approaches, Stiles has been in his new job for a few months. It’s what he expected after what feels like years of seeing Brett and Myla. There’s extra responsibility and he needs to talk with more of the town’s people, the only thing that really makes him uncomfortable.

“You shouldn’t worry so much,” Scott tells him. “People like you, they trust you.”

“I feel like I’m giving them wrong information. What if I sell them the wrong tack or maybe I don’t know if their horse is really sick? I could ruin an entire season of crops!”

Scott flops down on the floor next to Stiles, wrapping the younger boy in his arms, forcing Stiles to relax and breathe in his scent. “People ask you or Peter or Myla and they also talk with Deaton.”

“So no one actually needs to trust me? I’m not sure that’s any better,” he says, letting himself relax in the comfort of his brother’s arms. He enjoys all the pack cuddles and sleeping outside buried in a pile of his packmates is wonderful, but cuddles with his brother is still at the top, second only to Peter hugs. “How will I know if I’m saying the right things then?”

“Peter’ll tell you if there’s a problem, right? He tells you now if the tacks aren’t right or if someone has the wrong sized saddle or something? I guess, I don’t really understand how all that works,” Scott finally confesses.

It helps, actually. Stiles _does_ know more than Scott, even though Scott’s older and should be at least as experienced with animals. Maybe he knows when hooves need to be trimmed, but Stiles knows that, too. Scott knows something about a lot of animals – Scott takes care of cats and dogs and goats and pigs, for the gods’ sake – but Stiles knowledge of his charges is much deeper.

“I suppose.” They both relax and Scott reaches over for a blanket, apparently planning on settling down for a nap, or maybe it’s actually bed time since it’s dark outside. That’s enough for the boy, he shuts his eyes, breathing in the scent of his pack and it’s not long before he falls asleep.

 

Summer solstice has its usual festival, but every year there’s something a little different so it never gets tired or boring. There’s new games, new music and dances, new foods and new hunts. People get older so there’s different people hunting different things and children who were too young at the last festival are now fully ready to join the pack, even if their catch is squirrels and voles.

“I used to be so proud of catching rabbits,” Stiles whispers to Scott, watching Liam present his catch to Finstock.

Scott nudges his shoulder and whispers, “Hush, that was you a year or so ago and you were so proud. Let Liam have his time.”

“I know, I know,” Stiles responds, smiling at the way Finstock acts like it’s an amazing feat of strength and skill. Stiles loves his pack and the way the support each other and the younger members. He’ll admit he had a bit of pride when Finstock told him the honorific “Mister” wasn’t necessary.

“So are you going to talk to Peter or to Talia first?” Scott asks, bringing Stiles firmly back down to earth.

“Umm, I don’t know, I haven’t decided on who should be the one to tell me to stop dreaming.” He shrugs and leans into his brother’s hug.

“Talia will agree with you; it’s Peter who’s stubborn, at least from what you’ve said. I don’t understand it at all, but if you’re sure you want to be his mate…”

Stiles can’t help but nod, his head and heart full of so many things he can’t say. “I’m sure, I’ve not been more certain of anything. I can be good for him and he’ll be good for me. We should be together, like you and Kira together.”

That, Scott understands. He actually spoke with Kira’s (scary) parents and told them he’d like to court her, he wants to be her mate. It was frightening and initially they weren’t in favor of the bitten wolf with their firefox daughter, but they finally agreed seeing how Kira looked at the boy. So Scott knows – the heart wants what the heart wants.

“You need to talk with him. At least let him know how you feel and see if he’s saying no because… because…”

“If he doesn’t want to be my mate because I’m me, I’ll leave him alone. Maybe we’ll be friends.” Stiles stands straight and smiles. “But if he says that thing about me being too young and being with someone my own age.” He grabs his lunch and heads for the door, saying over his shoulder, “If it’s something silly like that, I’m going to go talk with Talia.”

 

Stiles waits until after lunch, until they’ve almost finished for the night. All the horses have eaten and had their exercise, been brushed and are in their clean stalls, all in for the night. “Peter, can I talk with you for a moment?”

“Of course, Mieczysław. Feel like a bit of dinner or a drink? You don’t have class tomorrow, do you?” Peter asks, gathering his things as they walk out into the cool evening.

“Actually, can we sit here for a minute? I’d like a bit of privacy,” he says, looking at the people passing them. No one gives them a look, either too busy to bother or understanding that in a werewolf village, you need to learn to ignore others or it’s just too overwhelming.

“Of course, I hope there’s no problem. You’ve been an apprentice for a couple of months now; are you happy?”

Stiles nods and clasps Peter’s arm, nodding eagerly. “Yes! Yes, I’m very happy. I hope you’re happy with my work. With me, too.”

“Absolutely,” Peter answers, giving Stiles a quick nudge against his temple. They sit on a bench outside the stables, where they can watch people making their way home for dinner or going out for last minute errands. “So what do you want to discuss?” The boy’s scent changes subtly, Peter notes. Determined, nervous, proud, both sure and unsure at the same time. Stiles’ scent moves so quickly Peter’s head is nearly spinning.

“Umm. Well…”

“I think if you just start talking you’ll get to the right place,” Peter offers, giving a quick wave to Natalie as she passes.

“Yes, you’re right,” Stiles says, straightening his shoulders, determination in his voice. “I’m getting older, and I’m nearly old enough to choose a mate and I’ve decided who to choose and I choose you, Peter. And you should choose me. I’ll be a good mate and we’re good together and this is a good idea. I’m choosing you.” He glances over at Peter, taking a deep sniff to check the older wolf’s mood.

Peter isn’t stunned into silence too often, but this is one of those rare times. “I…I’m not sure what to say. I am flattered, of course. You’re very dear to me, I hope you know that. But I think you’re young yet and have a while before you need to make those types of decisions.”

“I’ve already decided, I told you. And I’m not too young. I’m not talking about our mating during the next solstice, I’m saying we should agree that we _will_ be mates.” Stiles looks at Peter, studying him, looking at his eyes. After inhaling his scent, he nods and smiles just a little. “You’ll consider it. You don’t hate the idea.”

“I didn’t say that,” Peter tells him, snorting, knowing his body’s betrayed him. “I’m way too old for you and you should…”

Stiles stands and clasps Peter’s shoulder briefly, smile playing on his lips. “I did what I should do. Good night, Peter, see you in the morning.”

Peter shakes his head, watching the boy shove his hands into his pockets and walk across the square, moving towards the house he shares with Scott.

 

He’s been waiting for it to be awkward, for their little talk to make each day uncomfortable, but it isn’t. It’s almost like it’s cleared the air in a way. Peter, Myla and Stiles continue to work together and it goes well, it’s smooth and companionable. It’s not awkward at all; there’s no extra drama after what they discussed. Maybe Stiles stands a little closer sometimes, but he’s not pushy or grabby. It just seems like regular pack affection and a tiny bit more. Peter finds he doesn’t hate it.

 

“Ah, there you are, Peter, I’ve been looking for you,” Talia says, settling down next to him on a bench in the woods.

It’s after dinner and Peter’s out having a final mug of tea while watching the younger kids as they play. Cora’s being her usual bossy self, so occasionally he’ll shout out a warning or yell to stop being so rough, but mainly, he leaves the children alone. They need to sort things out themselves, after all. “I’ve been here for a bit, same as usual,” Peter says, showing her his mostly empty mug. “Nice to let the children out to play for a bit, I think it’s going to turn to rain in a day or so.”

They both look up, where the clouds are covering the stars. “Feels like it,” she answers, rubbing her elbow. It always gets stiff when the weather is going to change, alpha werewolf or not. “So it’s almost our winter solstice again.”

He looks at her with an eyebrow raised. It’s only early November, they just celebrated Samhain, so there’s a bit of time still. But Talia does like to plan ahead. There’s the full moon every month and a celebration every quarter, some bigger, some smaller. But always something for her to think about; things to keep her pack anchored to each other and to the earth. “Yes, I suppose so. Something you need from the pack?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t decided. David’s said he’ll make decisions for me this year, if I want.” She grins at him, both knowing she’s not likely to let someone else make plans for the biggest holiday of the year.

“I do have something I’d like to talk with you about, though.” She reaches into a pocket in her skirt and pulls out a molasses cookie, only somewhat broken. “Share with me,” she says, pushing half into his hand.

Not one to pass up sweets, he nods and breaks off a bite, humming in appreciation. “What do you want to talk about, Tali?”

“I think you need to consider taking a mate, Peter,” she states, looking ahead at the children, not meeting his eyes, even when they flash an annoyed bright blue. “You’re valuable to our pack, you know that. You’re considered one of the smartest people in the village, for whatever reason.” She smiles at him, to take away any sting. “You should share your life with someone. Enjoy some creature comforts as they say. Company in front of the fire in the evening and in your bed at night.”

“I’ve had company in my bed, thank you for asking,” he responds with a leer. “Didn’t think you’d want to hear about it though.”

She rolls her eyes, a Hale family habit. “I don’t, but I think it might be nice for you to have the same person on occasion.”

Peter looks down, and sighs. “Is this an order? Did Stiles talk with you, is that what this is?”

“Stiles?” She shrugs and looks at him, tapping his shoulder, more sister than alpha. “Why are we talking about Stiles? I say mate and you say Stiles?”

He grunts and pulls a small flash out from an inside pocket. It was their father’s and left to him when the elder Hale died. He hands it to her for the first sip, as you would for your sister and your alpha. “Sip? It’s a chilly night and this is better than tea.”

“Thank you, Peter,” she answers, taking a long draw. “How is the stock on this? Will we need to make more tincture before the holiday? It’s going to be a cold winter, I think it’ll be welcome.”

“I’ll take care of it.” He takes the flask back from her, taking a drink himself. “Stiles didn’t push you or anything?”

“No, but I’ve told you he’s set his sights on you. He’d be a good mate, he obviously cares about you. You have a lot in common -- I can tell he’s a little bit of a wiseacre.”

“So your idea is to punish me with someone like me?” he asks, and tips the rest of the spiked whiskey into his mouth.

“Save some of that for me!” Cora calls, while holding half a rabbit. Based on the mess on her face, he knows what happened to the rest.

“When you’re my age you can have some,” Peter calls back, grinning at his favorite niece, watching as she’s quickly buried in a pile of children.

“Ugh, that’s like a hundred years from now!” a girl named Haley calls out. Peter will remember her.

Talia just chuckles and whispers, “No, I haven’t spoken with Stiles, but I think he’d be a good choice for you. You should think about it, if he’s willing. By the way, if you’re going to the human’s village to look for horses, like you said you were, you could consider taking him with you.”

“I thought we agreed that decisions about the stables were my decisions and not yours.” It is possible he had had a few sips of whiskey before Talia came by.

She manages not to smirk. “It is your decision, I just thought I’d let you know that it’s fine with me if you take him with you. I know he’s good at riding, thanks to your lessons, and you’ll need someone with you to get back with what you’re looking for.”

“True. I _was_ thinking of taking him, actually. I think it might be good for him to see the village through his new eyes.” Peter finishes the bit of biscuit he still has left, suddenly feeling the effects of the wolfsbane in his whiskey. “He’s smart and has a good eye for horses and rides well. I think he should see the village.”

“Well if that’s your decision, I guess I should respect it.” She pushes herself up, using his shoulder for support and brushes the dirt off the back of her skirt. “Have a good night, Peter.”

“You, too. Sleep well,” he says and watches as she waves over her shoulder, walking back to her home.

Peter sits until the younger pack members tire and go back to their homes, making sure they trade a comforting touch before they leave. He stays a little while longer and then goes back, alone, to his home. There’s a lot to think about.


	9. The Boy and the Wolf Visit the Human's Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's about it. Peter takes Stiles to the human's village to go shopping for supplies. 
> 
> I don't know why this got so long, but it did. And it doesn't really move the story forward, but I thought Stiles needed to go back. So there you go. 
> 
> Read the end notes after you're done reading the chapter, okay?
> 
> And again, I'm glad you're enjoying this fluff festival.

 “You’re sure you want me to come with you? I won’t be a burden?”

“Of course you should come with me and you’re never… well, you’re hardly ever a burden.” Peter grins and pulls a small leather pack off a shelf in the back of the stables. “You’ll be a help to me, or I wouldn’t offer to take you.”

“Maybe you should take Myla,” Stiles says, looking out the front door where the other stable apprentice is grooming Talia’s favorite horse. “She’s older and has she been to the village?”

Peter nods and stops to study Stiles. “She went a couple of years ago. Do you not want to go? It’s not a punishment by any means. I thought you might find it interesting. And I do need someone to help me bring back supplies.”

Checking Peter’s scent, Stiles considers it. Peter doesn’t do things he doesn’t want to do, even when Talia commands it. He doesn’t tease either, dangling something in front of people just to yank it away. “I’d like to go with you. When do we go?”

“How about tomorrow? We’ll leave after breakfast and be back by dinner. Do you need me to tell Miss Morrell?”

“Do you think she’ll let me?” Stiles scent spikes with nerves and Peter rubs his back until he calms.

“Of course she will. Talia wants this done, so there shouldn’t be any problem.” He looks as Stiles’ scent changes again back to being nervous. “What’s wrong, little one? Why are you worried?”

Stiles smiles at the pet name, and shrugs. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint Talia. She knows I’m going and approves?”

Peter sighs and sits on a bench, patting it so Stiles sits next to him. “First, I told Talia that we needed some supplies, some new horses. We have a few more people in the town, and farms expanding so we need more. Plus, I think Luna is ready to retire and spend her time in the pasture,” he says, referring to one of Stiles’ favorite horses, the older mare he first learned to ride on. “I said I was going and we can get the best horses in the human’s village, because I have a contact there. Talia gave me a few more things to get; she’s getting anxious about the winter festival. It’ll be fine and it’ll be fun. Only if you feel comfortable going. I’m sure it’s not the best memories for you there, but you’re not the same little boy you were almost…four years ago?”

“Four years this June.” Stiles nods, big smile on his face. “Fourteen. Which I’m sure you know is when people can start thinking about their future and their mate and…”

“Let’s get through one thing at a time, you still have several months until June.” He stands and smiles so Stiles knows he’s not mad. Peter’s scent is always rich and slightly spicy with a comfortable scent of hay and horse underneath. “We’ll get a list of what’s needed and plan for our trip.”

 

Miss Morell agrees, of course, and so the next morning, Stiles meets Peter at his house, ready for whatever is going to happen. Scott comes too, just too curious to go to classes.

“I won’t miss too much, I just want to see you off,” he says, standing close to Stiles, unable to keep from scenting him, hands on his shoulders. “I can catch up. If you can miss a whole day, I can miss an hour.”

Talia raises an eyebrow at him, but smiles at Peter when the boys aren’t looking. “Fine, you can say goodbye to Stiles while we talk. But then you have to go back to class. I can’t have Miss Morell saying I’m taking her students.”

“Let’s get on with it,” Peter says, digging through his bag one more time. He’s got a bag, slightly bigger than the one he hands to Stiles. “We’ll strip and pack our clothes in these and then shift. Talia will tie them to us so we can move faster to the village. We get there and shift, dress and do our business. We’ll be able to ride our new horses home. Questions?”

Stiles shakes his head, looking inside his bag. There’s water, some bread and fruit wrapped up, along with a few other things, also wrapped in paper. “I don’t have to say anything do I?”

Smiling, Peter squeezes the back of Stiles’ neck, leaving his calming scent. “Don’t worry, I’ll do the talking and negotiating. You’re free to talk if you want to, but…”

“No, you’re in charge.” He gives Scott a shaky smile and says, “I’ll be home later, sleeping in my own bed tonight.”

“Good, because I’m used to your snores.” Scott sits on the ground and looks at his pack mates. “What happens in town?”

“You’re to do your business, get what we need and leave.” Talia tells Peter, stern look on her face. She’s not flashing her eyes, but it’s close. “Don’t delay. No stopping to chat or to go shopping or have dinner. You have food in your bags, do what you need to and come home.”

“I’m not sure if you don’t trust me or if you’re worried about me.” Talia’s scent is worried and she shouldn’t worry about him or this trip. After all, he wouldn’t be bringing Stiles if he had any concerns about their safety.

“A little bit of both probably.” She turns to Stiles and says, “Both of you can get undressed and pack your clothes in the bags and then I’ll tell you what happens next before you shift.”

He nods and undresses, carefully not looking at Peter because it wouldn’t be a good idea to show how much he appreciates Peter’s good looks just now. Scott’s helpful, chuckling like the immature goof he is and Peter wiggles his bottom at him, which makes both boys laugh and Talia huff.

“My mature little brother,” she says fondly and waits while they both pack up their clothes in their travel bags. “After you shift, I’ll tie the bags to your backs so you carry what you’ll need. When you get there, you’ll be able to pull the strings and get the bags off. Peter can probably get his own, but if there’s a problem, you’ll just tug on the string and I’ll show you. Shift now.”

Both Peter and Stiles shift into their wolf forms and Talia bends down to attach the bag to Peter’s back, tying it under his neck, then under his front legs and down his back. “I’ll do the same with yours. Yours is smaller, of course, but it should stay comfortable. And Peter has a bigger bag so you can carry the supplies home on your horses.” She finishes both of them and then she and Scott both tug the bags to be sure they’re secure.

Scott gives Stiles a hug around the neck and pats Peter on the shoulder. He’s a massive wolf, and the only one bigger is Talia. Stiles looks much smaller in comparison even though when he’s a human, he’s certainly catching up in height if not bulk.

“Go, have fun and see you both soon,” Talia says, rubbing a hand along Peter’s muzzle and ending with a gentle cuff around his ear. She does the same thing to Stiles and then nods once before putting her arm around Scott’s shoulder and walking with him back into town. “Be careful.”

 

Running with the pack on his back, as light as it is, is awkward, but after a few minutes Stiles gets the hang of it. He runs next to Peter when there’s room and when there’s not, Peter leads since he knows the way.

It doesn’t take too long to get to the edge of the village. They’ve actually been running less than they would on a full moon. Peter slows and circles Stiles, making sure he stops. They both catch their breath and then Peter bends forward tugging the string holding the pack around his belly. He can untie the cord around his neck with his back foot and sits up straight looking from Stiles to the final cord keeping the pack on until Stiles understands and tugs on the remaining cord letting it fall off the bigger wolf.

Peter quickly shifts and tugs on the cords holding Stiles’ pack on and he shifts while Peter finishes dressing.

“Not too bad of a run, was it? Feeling alright?”

Stiles nods and stretches out his back before he takes his bag, pulling out the clothes they packed a little earlier. “Yes, I’m fine, I like a good run. And the packs stayed on well, too.” He pulls out a skin of water and takes a long drink before handing it to Peter. They have bottles at home, but it’s much easier to travel with a skin, especially when traveling as a wolf. When he’s fully dressed and his hair is as straightened out as it can be, he turns to Peter and moves forward to push a bit of hair behind Peter’s ear.

It’s scenting, but it’s also a little more and Peter just raises an eyebrow as he drinks his water. “Do you need a bite to eat before we get going? I doubt they’re going to offer us dinner.”

“Do they hate us or… have they ever hurt you or one of us?” Stiles asks, shaking his head at the offer of food. “Talia sounded like this could be dangerous.”

Peter straightens up Stiles’ cloak, and takes his hand, pulling him close. “I don’t feel we’re in danger, but I do want you to stay close. I suppose this could be dangerous, if they all got together and had enough weapons or something. I don’t announce that I’m coming in, so there’s no time to plan that. Basically, they’re scared and superstitious. Mostly, they just stare and say mean things. And tell themselves how they’re better than we are while they abandon their children.”

Stiles sucks in a breath, keeping his head down and trying to steady his heartbeat; not that anyone other than Peter can hear it. When they come out of the woods into the village itself, Stiles looks around but things don’t really look familiar.

“You’re puzzled. What’s wrong?” Peter asks, squeezing his hand gently.

“Things don’t look…I don’t recognize anything, I thought I might.” He looks around and sees people watching them, unwilling to meet their eyes and stepping back, away from their path. “They’re backing away,” he says, unable to keep the glee from his voice. “They’re scared of us, like we have plague or something!”

“To them, it’s probably similar. You’re not scared, are you?”

Shaking his head, Stiles follows where Peter leads him. “I’m not scared since you’re with me.” They take a path off to the right, into the center of the village and Stiles can hear the whispers behind them. No one says their names, but there’s comments about visitors from the wolf’s village. “That’s Mr. Argent’s shop. Is this where we’re going?”

“Um hm,” Peter says and stops when they’re outside the door to his stable. “You remember him?”

Stiles just shrugs and watches the man walk out of the house and walk towards them. He looks older than Stiles remembers, but it might be because it has been a couple of years and also he has a fuller beard with more gray in it.

“Hale,” he greets with a curt nod. He glances at Stiles, looking through him as though he’s not there. Honestly, that’s fine with Stiles, something he’s used to from this part of his life. “What do you want?”

“It’s nice to see you too, Christopher. I hope you have a bit of time, we’re in need of a couple of horses and some other supplies.” Peter smiles his fake smile that makes Stiles’ skin crawl. He pulls a list out of the pocket of his jacket and checks it quickly. “We can get these things on the way out if that’s easier…”

“Gimme the list, Peter,” he says, holding his hand out and sighing loudly. “I’m not sure I can get the books for you. I can check with Father Harris and see if he has them…”

Stiles’ scent gets bitter so quickly that Peter turns to him, rubbing a warm hand up and down his back. “That’s fine, we’ll take what we can get and come back another time. Or, of course, you can come to us and drop things off.”

“Let’s see what we can do.” Chris shakes his head, but he’s grinning and suddenly so’s Peter. Stiles isn’t sure he likes it. “I think Allison can take care of this while we look at the horses. I’m assuming you know what you want there?”

“Of course,” Peter says, turning his back and walking towards the stable, pulling Stiles behind him. “We need a plow horse and a palfrey. That’s a riding horse,” he tells Stiles.

Chris opens the stable doors and they enter, with the horses making some quiet noises as they tend to whenever werewolves enter a stable. Stiles learned that as long as the wolves stay calm and don’t growl or flash their eyes, the horses calm down fairly quickly.

They stop when Chris stops and look at a couple of horses in their stalls. “I have a couple good ones for riding here. I have a dun - a filly - and a bay. They’re both just about a year old; he’s a couple of months older. About how big are you looking for?”

“Probably her size,” Peter says and leans in so she can smell him. “Let’s take her out for a look. And a good plow horse as well.”

“Sure. I’ll also call Allison and see if she can go and get the other supplies for you,” he says and opens the stall door, slipping a rope around the horse’s neck. When he sees Stiles looking at the bay in the next stall, Chris quietly says, “Is that… is that the Stilinski boy?”

Stiles tries not to jump, shutting his eyes in case they accidentally flash and startle the horses.

“Yes, that’s Mieczysław,” Peter answers simply, turning a bright smile to Stiles. He squeezes his shoulder and rubs his thumb on Stiles’ neck before he turns back to Chris.

“He’s grown so much,” Chris mutters, looking over his shoulder while leading one of the horses outside. “I wasn’t sure.”

Peter holds the horse’s jaw, turning his head and looking in his ears. “Of course he’s grown, that’s what happens when you feed children. And let them sleep and play outside and go to school. They grow up strong and happy.”

“I’m sorry about what happened with him, but with his father…”

“I’m not sorry at all,” Peter interrupts, checking on a hoof. “We’re doing fine and he’s an excellent apprentice.” He looks at Stiles and says, “Come take a look, this is what you want to see.”

Stiles looks where Peter shows him and they talk quietly for a minute while Chris walks towards the house shouting for his daughter.

“Do you like her or should we look at any others?” Stiles stands and they continue walking around the horses. Stiles follows Peter checking eyes and ears anything else Peter seems to want to see. Stiles isn’t sure if this is necessary or if he’s just trying to rile up Mr. Argent. He’s fine either way.

“I like these and I like her, she’s pretty – and looks healthy. I’d like a ride of course,” he says, addressing his comment to Chris.

Chris nods and before he can do anything else, Allison is out of the house approaching the group. “Papa, you needed…” She stops and stares and finally says, “Stiles?” stepping towards him.

Peter growls quietly, deep in his chest and Stiles steps behind him, looking around the older wolf towards the dark haired girl.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she says, stepping around her father to look at him. “You’re Stiles, right? Do you remember me? Allison?”

He nods, thinking back to shortly after his father died. He was working in the barn for his former master and Allison had brought him a sandwich. Slices of pork on some soft bread, it was rich and moist and tasted like home. She’d said she was sorry about his father, shoved the gift in his hand and practically ran away. Allison was nice to him and she didn’t need to be. It was rare and he can’t forget that. “I remember you. Thank you. For… before.”

She blushes and nods, dropping her head as she looks towards her father. “Did you need something, Papa?”

“Go to Mrs. Blake’s store and get the things on this list.” He pulls a small purse out of his pocket and hands her a few coins along with the list. “Tell her to put it on our bill. You can give her this and get a receipt. Make sure you get the receipt from her, honey.”

“Yes, Papa,” she answers, studying the list. “Should I wait or have her deliver this?”

“Let her know you’re waiting for it. Tell her this is for _us_ , understand sweetie?” Chris pulls her close and kisses the top of her head.

She nods and smiles at Stiles again. “I’ll be back soon. Nice to see you again, Stiles. I’m glad you’re well.”

Peter snorts quietly as she walks away and turns to Chris. “It looks like she’s thriving, too. I’m glad for you. And Victoria?”

“She’s well, thank you.” Chris scrubs a hand through his hair and looks at Stiles again before he asks, “Is he… is he still human?”

“He’s ours,” Peter says firmly. “Show him, Stiles.”

Stiles takes a breath and his eyes flash golden. He keeps his teeth in, not sure exactly what Peter was expecting, but thinking better to under show.

Chris nods and says, “I’m glad he’s healthy. That you take care of them. Just so you know, I’ve never agreed with the…”

“Never agreed and no one listens to you, do they? I’m not sure what your village thinks we do with children you abandon? Were you expecting we roasted them like a suckling pig?”

Peter’s eyes glow bright blue and Stiles carefully takes his hand, squeezing it, hoping it’ll calm him down. Talia definitely wouldn’t approve of him killing someone here.

“Thank you, Stiles, I’m fine,” Peter says after a moment with his eyes shut. “Chris, I do have something else I’d like to offer and talk about an exchange.” He frees his hand, smiling quickly at Stiles and reaches into his bag, pulling out a cloth bag he hands to Chris. “We grow a red winter wheat and it makes a nice white flour. I’ve been told you’re mostly growing oats for bread, so I thought you might want to try this.”

Chris looks in the bag and pulls out a handful. There’s enough in the bag to experiment with a good sized piece of his land. “White flour? We’ve had it of course, never had much luck growing it.”

“You might have used some that doesn’t like it here, but as I’ve said, we’ve had success with this and have similar soil. Plus, since you have the stables, you’ll have enough fertilizer for it.” He goes back into his bag and pulls out a small package, wrapped in brown paper. The paper is slightly stained and Stiles can smell the bread, baked this morning and wrapped carefully. It’s still warm from being on the wolf’s back for the trip over. It smells delicious. “Made this morning, try it,” Peter says, handing the package to Chris.

He unwraps it and sniffs, but still looks suspicious. “Still warm.”

Peter sighs and takes it back, pulling off a small piece and hands half of it to Stiles. “As I said, made this morning.” He pops it in his mouth and chews, showing a bit of fang as he licks his lips. Stiles eats his piece, too, licking the delicious butter off his fingers. Fresh bread and butter, there’s nothing better.

Chris chuckles and finally tears off a chunk, taking a bite and licking his fingers as well. “I’ll save the rest for Allison.” He looks at the bread and shakes his head, “I don’t know what you people do, but I swear you have the best butter.”

“You could come to market and get some, I’ll be sure to have some put aside for you,” Peter says, smiling like he actually means it. “So you want to take a chance on it? Nothing ventured, as they say.”

“Doubt it’s a gift from you. What do you need?”

“I assume you’re still growing that yellow wolfsbane you’re so fond of? How about trading for some of that?” Peter asks and Stiles has to keep himself from jumping. He’s been told the yellow wolfsbane is very poisonous. He’s been told that several times in fact.

Chris must be wondering the same thing. He finishes his bread and after he licks the last bit of butter from his fingers, he studies Peter. “Yellow wolfsbane? I know that’s not exactly good for you, so can you tell me what you’ll do with it?”

“If you must know, with the holiday approaching, we have a way to…” he pauses, cocking his head in thought. “We can do something to it that makes it a nice addition to ales or wines. It gives it a nice boost.”

“I’ll take your word for it. You’ll be able to carry it back?”

Peter smiles at the horse who’s chewing on a bit of Stiles’ hair. “I assume you’ll wrap it so I can put it in the bag and not have to carry it around my neck.”

“Don’t tempt me, Hale.” Stiles wants to growl at that, but Chris is smiling and Peter doesn’t seem concerned so he stops himself.  “Well, I’ll go get you some and get it wrapped. Allison should be back in a little bit. Let me get you set to take the horses out.”

“Thank you, Christopher,” Peter says. Stiles isn’t sure why, but he feels like he’d like to growl again. The village is strange; he’s only been gone for a few years, so maybe it’s not the village that’s changed, he’s just seeing it now. And now he wants to go home.

 

Stiles will ride the little filly and Peter will ride the larger colt. He’s just two years old and darker brown than Stiles’ horse. They both ride well, although Peter’s is a little jumpier, not as used to be directly ridden, as he’s trained for a cart or plow.

Peter and Stiles pack up their bags, with more in Peter’s since both he and his horse are larger. Stiles tries not to look through everything they got from the store, just sniffing at paper, pens and something leather.

“Sorry I couldn’t get you both books,” Chris says, putting the wrapped package of wolfsbane in Peter’s pouch. “I can see what I can do and hold it for you.”

Digging through his pockets, Peter finds his wallet and pours coins out into Chris’ hands. “You could deliver it when you come for the market to pick up some butter.”

“You might need to pick it up.” Chris nods at his hands and says, “Think you’re a little short, Hale.”

“Think you’re a robber, Argent,” Peter answers, but pours out more until Chris nods and puts the coins into pockets he has on both sides of his trousers.

Peter grins at Stiles. “So, Mieczysław, should we stop for a meal at the pub before we go home?”

Stiles can’t keep the surprise off his face, “Talia said we shouldn’t delay coming home.”

“Good idea,” Chris answers, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t think you didn’t plan ahead with a meal for your return.”

“I just thought something different might be enjoyable. And I’d get to show off Mieczysław, let your people know he’s thriving. I’m sure they’ll be so relieved.” Peter leans into Stiles’ neck, scenting him slowly, smiling and letting his eyes flash as Stiles relaxes.

“I’m glad he’s well.” Chris looks away from what might seem like an intimate display to humans. Maybe because they touch each other so seldom. “Do you know…  Missus McCall has occasionally asked if I know about her son. He was named Scott and he went to your village before Stiles and…”

Peter quickly interrupts him and his eyes flash again, and Stiles can smell his irritation. “He died. He was young and left alone in the forest for I don’t know how many hours. He had breathing problems when we found him and we weren’t able to save him, although _we_ actually tried.”

The human nods and turns away, and Stiles can scent how unhappy he is. He looks at Peter who says nothing. “Should we leave now, Peter? I think we have everything we can get.”

“Yes, I think it’s time.” Peter ensures Stiles is secure on the smaller filly and his bag is secure around his back before he gets on his larger horse. “Christopher, thank you, always a pleasure.” He holds out a hand and Chris shakes it, nodding curtly.

“Have a safe trip back,” he says, then turns his back going into stable.

“You lead,” Peter instructs and they quickly make their way through the village and back into the darkness of their forest.

It’s been a long and tiring day. Exciting and sad and confusing and while it was good to have spent it with Peter, now all Stiles wants is the safety of his home and his pack and his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so why didn't Peter tell Chris about Scott?
> 
> He trusts and kinda likes Chris overall, but he's pissed with the way the children have been treated, especially Stiles. So he doesn't want to give Chris anything that might let him forgive himself for what the village does. 
> 
> Is it dickish? Maybe. Does Chris deserve to forgive himself? Nope.


	10. The Boy, the Alpha and the Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles talks with Talia and gets permission to ask Peter to be his mate. He asks Peter and the silly wolf puts him off.

It’s peaceful back at home with their two new horses and the other supplies they brought back from the human’s village.

Stiles expected a bit more noise or fuss, but actually it’s good that things are quiet and back to normal in no time at all. They keep the filly and someone else in the village buys the colt, even though he stays at Peter’s stables.

Scott asks about his day and Stiles gives him a few highlights and tells him overall it wasn’t as exciting as he’d hoped. He doesn’t mention the strange conversation about a woman asking about the baby before him or Peter’s strange answer. It’s probably for the best, Stiles thinks. Scott’s happy and healthy and doesn’t remember anything about the village as far as Stiles has seen. He’s never asked about it and seems happy with his life. He should, Stiles thinks. Now that he’s been back he knows there’s nothing for him in the human village.

The wolfsbane goes to Deaton who takes it with a smile and promise to have the tincture ready in time for the next solstice. “Very nice, a healthy plant,” Deaton says, looking from the blooms down to the roots on one of the plants. “He even gave you roots, I’ll be sure to plant this. Hopefully it hasn’t been out of water for too long.”

Peter paces around Deaton’s office, picking up books and pieces of equipment before putting them back down, close to where he found them. “It’s enough for the festival though, isn’t it?”

“Between what we have and what I can make from this, I’d say so, yes. I take it there was no problem in the village?” Deaton takes a knife from him and puts it back down on the counter. “How was Stiles?”

“He did well. I think he enjoyed the day.”

Deaton’s smile is small as he turns away and says, “I’m glad it went well. Thank you for the plants, Peter, I’ll get to work.”

 

“Alpha, do you have a moment?” Stiles asks through the door. There’s no doubt she’ll hear him, and if she’s busy, he’ll come back. He hopes, however, that she can see him; he’s too nervous to believe he can do this again.

Talia opens the door, and rubs her eyes, yawning hugely. “Yes, of course, dear. Come on in. Tea?”

“Thank you and no thank you for the tea, ma’am. Thank you for seeing me.” He lifts a small stack of papers from a chair and puts it on his lap when he sits.

“I’m sorry, this place is a mess,” she says, taking the stack from him and putting it on the corner of her desk. “I’m trying to come up with something a little different for our winter solstice festival this year. We had a good year, the rains were good and so I think we need to celebrate our good fortune and thank our gods.” She sets down her quill pen and pushes away her pad.

Stiles recognizes the pen as one they picked up from the village, glad she’s using it. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh, I’ll let you know, thank you. Maybe you and Scott will need to be taste testers.” She pours herself a cup of tea and asks, “Would you like… Oh, you said no already. So tell me how I can help you, pup.”

He takes a breath, steeling himself and blurts out, “I want to tell Peter that I want him to be my mate. Formally ask him to be promised to each other. So I want to ask you, alpha, for your approval. I’ve already talked with him, but, I want to do this formally. I want to do this the right way.”

Talia clasps her hands together in front of her mouth and sits quietly for a moment. “I’m aware that you like him. I believe that he likes you, but…”

Stiles stiffens in his seat, looking down, trying to steady his breath. “I know I don’t have much to offer. I don’t come from any special kind of family and obviously you had to take me in and keep me and…”

“Stiles, please, it’s not that at all,” Talia interrupts, taking his hand. “Nothing about your family or background is a problem and never will be. What counts is who you are and what you do now. We look at the things a person contributes to their pack and how they treat each other.”

“I’m getting better working and I know I’ll be able to contribute more when I’m older and if Peter would let me do more, I could…”

She waits until he takes a breath and holds up her hand. “I know, Stiles, please. Let me speak?”

“Yes, alpha,” he mutters, lowering his head, turning his head and showing his neck. After four years, it’s nothing he even thinks about any more, it’s as natural as breathing. Comforting even, the rules make sense, and they’re easy to follow.

“You do contribute and I hope you know how much you’re appreciated. You’ve taken over for Brett amazingly well and I know Myla is very happy working with you. And of course, Peter’s happy working with you.” She pauses and tries to think of the right way to continue. “You are young, Stiles. I’m not saying you’re too young to know your mind, but I know Peter doesn’t want you to have any regrets if he were to claim you.”

“Has he thought about it or talked about it with you?” Stiles can barely keep his seat. Of course Peter would talk with Talia as both his alpha and his sister.

She smiles, enjoying his happy scent, mixed in with the horses and Peter; it smells like family. “I’ve suggested it’s time he pick a mate, at least make a commitment to someone. I would be very happy if he chose you, Stiles. I don’t know that there’s someone a better match for him.”

He’s beaming, so proud that he has her approval. “I don’t suppose you’d tell him he should pick me, would you?”

Talia laughs and gives his ear a tug. “No, sweet, if I did suggest someone, I’m sure he’d dig his heels in just to be difficult. But you have my permission to talk with him. But if he tells you no, gives you a firm, definite no, then it’s no and that’s it.”

Stiles nods vigorously. “Yes, ma’am. I wouldn’t want to lose his friendship. So I’ll ask him and if he’s angry or his scent says no, then it’s no. I don’t want either of you upset with me.”

“You’re a good young man and I’m nothing but proud of you. Good luck, little one.” She hugs him, scenting his cheek with hers and sends him on his way.

 

Myla puts away the last of the curry combs and turns to Stiles. “Are you going to talk with him today?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. What if he says no?” Stiles slumps against a wall, scratching the cat who sleeps in the barn. She lives with someone in the village, but spends a lot of nights in the stable chasing after mice who sleep in the straw. “If I don’t ask him, he can’t completely turn me down. Not permanently if I don’t ask.”

“If you don’t ask him, he can’t accept. Ask him. Make the formal ask,” she says, grabbing her cloak and turning to Stiles again. “Scott and I can tell him if you want. I think pretty much everyone knows, so _tell him_ , Stiles.”

“Tell him, tell him. Easy for everyone else to say. Tell him, Stiles,” he mutters to himself, picking up the cat and putting her down on a ledge by the newest filly.

“Tell who what?” Peter’s behind him before Stiles even notices. They may both be wolves, but Peter’s obviously better at sneaking up on people.

“Umm… Tell Brett that Myla and I are looking forward to seeing him for the solstice. And ask him if he’s found a mate in the village he’s working in,” Stiles adds, feeling proud of himself that he came up with something so quickly.

“Not sure why that would be difficult.” Peter adjusts a harness hanging on the wall and checks the horses one more time. Yes, his team can and has done this, but he needs one more check before the end of the day. He takes an extra trip to check on the new filly, Artemis, and be sure she’s settled.

“I checked her, too. She seems happy, I think.” Stiles pets her nose and gives her a scratch behind her ears. She’s special to him, she’s still just his size and Peter let him name her.

“I think she is; she should be, you spoil her rotten.” He smiles and reaches into a pocket, pulling out a package wrapped in familiar brown paper. “Here, this is for you. I was going to save it for the solstice, but I decided you’d get plenty of candy then. Anyway,” he says, handing Stiles the package.

He sniffs it and opens it quickly, smiling back at Peter. “Peppermint! I love peppermint, thank you!” He throws his arms around Peter and hugs him tight, making sure to tip his head trusting Peter will scent along his neck. When they part, Stiles breaks off a piece and holds it out towards Peter. “Would you like some? It seems only right to share.”

“Thank you, but no, please keep it. I know it’s your favorite.”

Stiles crunches on his piece of candy, wrapping up the rest to put in his pocket. He’ll share with Scott, because after all, Scott always shares with him.  

“I think we should be mates.” Stiles wasn’t planning on saying it and knows he’s blushing, but maybe not thinking too much is better, so he pushes on. “We could declare now and then when I’m older, and you’re more comfortable with it, we could have our ceremony. I know you like me and I like you very much and… and yes, that’s what I think.”

Peter sighs, passing a hand through his hair. “Mieczysław. Stiles – we discussed this already and said…”

“No, we didn’t really discuss it, Peter, we discussed discussing it. But we should talk about it, because I know you’re concerned with my age, but I’m getting older and…”

“I’m getting older, too. You should be with someone closer to your own age. What about -- what about Derek or Cora? Even Laura? They’re closer to your age,” Peter sputters, sitting down on the bench outside the stall. This feels familiar, and he doesn’t really want to do this again. He’d rather not be doing this at all.

“Derek or Cora? First, neither of them like men and also, I’m not looking for any available Hale.” He sits next to Peter, leaving almost no room between them. “I like you. I want to be with you.”

Sighing again, Peter shakes his head. “You’ve barely experienced life and you…”

Stiles interrupts again, nudging Peter with his shoulder. “I’ve already experienced a lot of life, Peter, and I can’t say I’ve enjoyed all of it. I enjoy my life here and my time with you. Tell me, if I were ten years older, would you still be fighting?”

“If you were ten years older, I’d be ten years older, too and that’s still a big difference.” He gives Stiles’ knee a quick pat before pulling away. “I’m old enough to be your father. That’s not is, is it? I helped raise you for the last few years and so maybe you’re confusing your feelings with parental feelings.”

The boy snorts and covers his mouth trying not to laugh. “Peter, I had a father, and I do remember him. I do not and have never felt about him the way that I feel about you. I don’t think the same things about him and that’s a very good thing.” He pauses and looks away, scent suddenly bitter and anxious. “You don’t think of me as your son, do you?”

Peter blinks quickly and shakes his head. “No. No, I feel like I want to take care of you, but I’ve never felt like a father figure to you. It’s all rather complicated.”

“Good. Well not the complicated part, but the other part. You know Mrs. Yukamura is about 150 years old than her husband.”

“She’s a kitsune and you know that’s different.” Peter tries to hide his grin. This boy is smart, too smart. And Peter likes that too much.

“David’s about ten years older than Talia,” Stiles says, stating a well-known fact, as though Peter may not be aware of it.

He sighs heavily and doesn’t bother hiding his smile. “They had an arranged marriage, to strengthen a treaty with another pack. And you know that, too.”

“All right, you win.” Stiles stands and backs up towards the stable door, hands held in front of him in surrender. “This is all good, and complicated is something I think I can live with. I’m going to leave now and I won’t bother you with this again. From now on, Peter. I’ll wait until you come to me. Because you will.”

The boy leaves, smelling smug and Peter thinks he should be.


	11. The Boy, the Wolf, and the Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles waits for Peter as long as he can. 
> 
> Then it's time to bring Peter to him.

The winter solstice festival is a nice break during the long, cold months. Everyone gets together to celebrate, enjoying each other’s company and having something other than rain and snow to look forward to. Talia makes sure there’s daily events planned so the pack can spend time as a group and people still have time to be with their families.

Everyone contributes to the work, which somehow seem more fun when there’s bonfires and chases through the woods afterwards.

This year Talia’s dinner plan includes roast pig, turkey and a lot of beef, plus the venison the pack caught on the first night of the holiday. Businesses with ovens and home fireplaces are all in use to cook accompanying dishes and desserts.

There’s plenty of wine and ale, some doctored with the wolfsbane mixture Deaton made. Adults and the older children drink carefully, making sure not to have too much. With the adult’s supervision, the younger kids get small sips and act silly, stumbling and giggling as though they’ve had more than they did.

To help with the preparations, Stiles, Scott and friends work on peeling and chopping vegetables and fruits. It’s not the most exciting thing to do – that’s the hunt – but it’s certainly better than the dish duty, assigned to the youngest of the pack members.

 

“Is he talking to you yet?” Kira whispers this, not that anyone is paying attention to the group sitting outside Mrs. Martin’s kitchen.

“Only what’s required for work. But that’s fine, it’s not a problem.” Stiles hands his cleaned carrot to Scott, who quickly slices it, using his claws. “I told him I’m not going to ask him anymore.”

Scott raises an eyebrow, looking at Kira behind Stiles’ back. “How long will you give him until you do something? Or give up?”

“I’m not giving up, I’ll never give up,” Stiles asserts, giving more vegetables to Scott. “He’ll give in, I just have to wait.”

 

The next month Myla drops down on Scott’s lap, wiggling until he moves enough that she can sit next to Stiles. “Still waiting for Peter?” she asks, pulling Brett down into the group as well.

Everyone shifts making room for the new arrivals, sharing their food, and accepting the additional supply of cheese and ham to snack on. It’s a full moon and they’re outside after a good run, content and tired after a long day of work, hunting and dinner with the pack.

“It’s only been a little over a month, I’m not rushing him.” Stiles takes a bite of cheese and couples it with a bite of apple; it’s a delicious combination Peter showed him. “I think he’s finally understanding that I’m not going to pester him and he’s relaxing.”

“Before you move in for the kill?” Lydia smirks, taking the apple from Stiles and having a giant bite.

Jackson is ready with a piece of sweetbread for Lydia and says, “I’ll never understand it, but then again, I can’t think of why exactly he would want you.”

“Stiles has a lot of good traits. He’ll be a really good mate for Peter, everyone thinks so,” Kira says, nodding and giving his arm a little squeeze. Stiles likes her, glad that his found brother is finally able to court the girl of his dreams.

Brett nods and says, “I’ve heard some whispers. What do you know, Kira?”

“Oh, well I heard my mother telling my father that when she went to see Deaton, they ended up talking about how you two should finally get together.”

“What? When did that happen?” Stiles asks, sitting up, knocking into Brett and moving the whole pile. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Scott gives her a panicked look, ignoring his friend’s question. “And why was your mother talking to Deaton?”

Kira sighs, shaking her head. “Calm down. She wanted to ask Deaton about the young man who wants to court me. See what kind of person you are.”

“What did he say?” Scott asks, smell still full of panic.

“He said you’re lazy, often late and disrespectful.” Kira answers and at his stunned face, she giggles and kisses his nose. “Obviously, he spoke highly of you, which is why we’re allowed to see each other. And then they talked about other people in the village. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it, I thought everyone talks about it.”

“I think they do, which again, is a mystery. I’ve heard Finstock mention it to Miss Morrell.” Jackson leans back so his head is on Lydia’s lap while she leans further onto Scott’s side. The pack cuddles on the full moon are one of Stiles’ favorite things, even if it means cuddling with Jackson. It would be nice if Peter were here, but…

“So how do we make him act on it?” Myla asks, mouth full of ginger cake, courtesy of Mrs. Martin. “Get Peter to open his big, blue eyes.”

“Make him jealous,” Lydia states, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Jackson shrugs and nods. “If you want a scheme, you should ask Lydia. She’s tricky.” He smiles up at her and she leans down to kiss him. “In a good way.”

“Right. Make him jealous. How do I do that?” Stiles isn’t sure, this is something he’s never considered. No one has ever been jealous of him, not as far as he knows.

Lydia shuts her eyes, deep in thought. “Someone needs to be interested in you. Not Jackson, obviously. Myla?”

“Peter knows I like girls and it’s obvious that Stiles doesn’t, so. We need a boy,” she says, looking at her friends. “How about Derek, he’s the right age?”

“No, I just told Peter he _doesn’t_ like boys.”

Brett puts an arm around Stiles’ shoulder and grins. “I’ll do it. We know each other, I’m a little older and I’m not here all the time, so we don’t need to be together all the time. What do you think?”

“You would do that for me? You’re great!” Stiles brushes his face against Brett’s neck. He smells nice, mostly familiar like pack, and familiar with the smell of horses and hay, but a little foreign, a little like the other village where he works.

Lydia nods. “That could work. You’ll need to go on a couple of dates, just have tea or lunch in public enough so someone gossips and Peter hears it. Give him a bit and he’ll fold,” she asserts. Because she is always right.

They hear Cora before they see her. “Derek, come on, we’re gonna sit over here!” She flops down next to them, squishing Myla just a bit and hands over some peppermints. “Even I’m getting tired of these, but I know Stiles never does. Please eat these.”

“If I must,” he answers, grabbing them before Scott can. “Sit down Derek, we don’t bite.”

Derek rolls his eyes, something all the Hales seem to excel at. Unlike his uncle, he’s mostly quiet, but when he does talk it’s usually interesting. “You look suspicious. What are you talking about?”

There’s a silent conversation among the group with eyebrows and smirks of their own. Finally Kira answers, “We’re helping Stiles. He wants to be promised to your uncle and Peter’s being stubborn. So we’re going to make Peter jealous. Want to help?”

Cora and Derek look at each other and Derek’s eyebrows are doing some complicated dance. Then Cora laughs and says, “I’m not sure it’ll work, but we’re in! Uncle Peter is being stubborn and needs to open his eyes. Everyone knows he wants to claim you.”

Stiles blushes, turning his head into Brett’s shoulder. He does smell nice and if they’re doing this, they’ll need to trade scents.

“Peter’s going to lose his mind,” Derek offers with a smirk. Then he looks to see what everyone else is snacking on. “I smell pork, hand it over.”

Jackson sighs and gives his dried meat roll to Derek, taking a piece of candy from Stiles. “Still can’t imagine anyone being jealous for you.”

“Me either,” he mutters. The boy isn’t sure how this will work, but he hopes it does.

 

It turns out Brett is a pretty good pretend boyfriend. He isn’t at the village all the time, he spends most nights in the village where he works. Brett suggests they go for a visit, on an afternoon when there’s a town market. It’s not a lot different than the one at home, but it’s fun seeing different people and trying foods that are just a little bit different than what he’s used to.

Brett takes Stiles’ packages, putting them into his sack. “I think you’ve spent all your earnings -- did you even buy anything for yourself?”

“Of course! First, I’m going to share the fruits with Scott, he doesn’t get to eat them all. And I got enough of the cheese that we can have some and I have some to give to Peter. He loves cheese, and I think this is one of his favorite.” Stiles stops by another table and sighs. “More fruit? We need more fruit in our village, Brett.”

“We should mention that, Talia would probably agree.” He takes Stiles’ arm, gently guiding him away, smiling at the vendor over his shoulder. Even from a neighboring village, it won’t take long for news of their shopping trip to make its way back to the wolves’ village.

 

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Stiles shoves a bit more bread and cheese into his mouth, smacking his lips loudly. It usually annoys Peter, but since Stiles is sharing his treasures, the wolf will need to live with it.

Peter spreads a bit more of the soft, herby cheese on the warm bread. “Very tasty, thank you. And from the village market?”

“Not ours,” Stiles says, shaking his head. He licks the finger he used to pick up the last bread crumbs, not even looking to see if Peter watches. “Where Brett works. We decided to walk around there and get some things. There’s one vendor that has really good candied fruits so I got some to share with Scott and Kira. It’s about the only way to get Scott to eat fruit.”

“He is a carnivore. Hopefully he’ll clean his teeth with a few bones when he’s done eating.” Peter crumbles up the paper, tossing the wrappers into a basket they use for trash. They’ll look at it later and see what can go into compost. “I wasn’t aware you were going out with Brett.”

Stiles shrugs, and turns away, feeling his cheeks heat. “He’s fun and familiar and knows what I do. I guess he doesn’t care if I smell like horses.”

Peter nods, although Stiles can’t see him. He did tell the boy to go out with people and it seems like he’s doing that. It’s good, it’s what he should do. Peter doesn’t grumble at all. Not even a little bit.

 

“It’s finally feeling like spring!” Kira sighs contentedly, leaning into Scott’s side. “I thought it would never come.”

Brett stretches and wraps his arm around Stiles’ shoulder, leaning in to nuzzle his neck. It’s nice, he wouldn’t mind if this were real – with someone who felt it back, of course. “Yeah, it’s nice. I’ll take a little rain over all that snow any time.”

“Look! Hayley caught her first rabbit!” Liam proves this by shoving it in Stiles’ face, while the younger girl stands behind him, proud smile on her blood-stained face.

“That’s a great looking rabbit, congratulation, you should be proud,” the boy tells her, remembering the exhilaration of his successful first hunts.

“Thank you.” She grabs Liam’s hand and pulls him away, shouting over her shoulder, “Tonight’s the full moon, gotta go, it’s time to play!”

 

 

Stiles and his friends sit crowded together on a bench by the fountain in the center of the square. They can’t sit next to each other and still talk so some are on the bench and the rest are on the ground, leaning against each other, trading scents and stories.

 

As the evening turns into night, emotions rise and they take turns chasing each other or the animals that live in the nearby forest. There’s some howls from the wolves when they fully shift and maybe a little more energy from everyone all the way around. Only the youngest children need to be truly supervised to be sure they don’t hurt anyone; the wolves in Talia’s pack have control of their animal side by the time they’ve hit puberty.

 

Scott nudges Stiles’ shoulder, knocking him into Brett. “Come on, let me chase you again. I wasn’t trying last time.”

 

“You’re just slow, Scott,” Kira says, standing and brushing off her bottom. “I’ll let you chase me, but then you need to catch something for me.”

 

“Thank you, dove.” Scott and Kira use pet names for each other, which is cute, but then they both blush, which might be cuter.

 

Brett turns to Stiles, and kisses up his neck to his ear where he whispers, “Peter’s listening. Go along, but say no.”

 

The boy isn’t sure what his friend means, but hopefully he’ll understand shortly, so he pushes away, smiling and gives Brett a quick kiss on the lips.

 

“Come on, Stiles, let’s go somewhere else.” Brett tugs on him just a little encouraging him to stand.

 

Stiles thinks about what Brett said and stays in his seat. “I don’t want to leave, let’s stay here for a little longer.”

 

Brett grins and runs his lips up Stiles’ neck, making Stiles shiver. “Come on, Stiles, we can leave and spend some time alone.”

 

“No, not right now. I want to stay here.”

 

“It’s the full moon and we can spend some time alone,” Brett says, and Stiles can hear his heart pounding, along with the sound of his own. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while and you say you like me. Come on, you can trust me. I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be good.”

 

It’s not hard to pretend, because he’s suddenly feeling pressured. “Brett, not now, not… not yet. I _do_ like you, but can’t we wait a bit before we… you know?”

 

Brett stands, pulling Stiles with him, arms wrapped around the younger boy. “Why should we wait, come on, Stiles, you would if you liked me and you…”

 

He doesn’t say anything else as there’s a roar and then everyone moves as Peter runs towards them, practically flying to grab Brett.

 

Luckily, Brett reacts quickly, pushing Peter away and quickly shifting into his beta form. He’s not small, but compared to Peter, he’s clearly at a disadvantage.

 

They circle each other, but with quick reactions, Scott and Jackson trying to pull Brett away and Derek and Cora pulling on Peter. After nearly getting hit by someone’s claws, Stiles ducks down, unable to do anything but yell. “Stop it, both of you! Stop that!”

 

While they can ignore Stiles, they can’t ignore it when Talia strides over, full alpha face and flashing red eyes. “Stop. Right now.” It feels like the ground is shaking and Stiles feels a push against his chest where he normally feels only secure bonds from his pack.

 

Brett drops his hands, yellow eyes looking down as he bares his neck. Peter takes a second longer, hand still around Brett’s neck, tiny beads of blood when he’s broken the skin. Eventually he does drop his hand, respectfully tilting his head, although there’s still a rumble in his chest.

 

“Shut up, you’ll answer when you’re spoken to.” Talia looks at her pack, at everyone standing either looking down respectfully or looking away, not quite meeting her eyes. “What happened here? Peter you attacked Brett?”

 

“It was a mistake, Alpha. He misunderstood and thought…” Stiles starts and then stops, unsure how to explain this to his alpha without making someone sound terrible. Probably himself.

 

Peter clenches his hands at his side, when he answers, “Brett was pressuring Stiles into leaving with him. Stiles said no and Brett was trying to drag him away to… well, he wanted to get Stiles alone. And Stiles said no and Brett wasn’t listening, so I…”

 

The alpha interrupts, rolling her eyes as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Oh, for love of all the gods, are you serious?” Talia moves towards him, scenting his cheek all the while shaking her head.

 

She turns towards Stiles and smiles as he looks away, certain he’s turned white as snow, as he says, “Alpha, I’m sorry, you see…”

 

“Oh, I see very well. Tell me, Stiles, do you still think you want my half-feral, idiot brother as your mate. When you’re older?” Talia asks, looking at Peter as his head shoots up, eyes flashing bright blue.

 

“Ma’am? Yes, ma’am. Absolutely, if he’ll have me,” Stiles sputters, trying to ignore his friends’ giggles.

 

“Shocking.” She moves back to Peter, lifting his head with one finger under his chin. “Brother, tell me, do you want to take this little, trickster wolf as your mate? When he’s old enough?”

 

Peter shuts his eyes, shaking his head as his shoulders slump. “This was what? Tricking me?”

 

The boy, who is a wolf, shrugs and looks around at his friends and his alpha. “Helping you see the light?”

 

“Peter?” Talia prods, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

Sighing loudly, he looks at Stiles, who is chewing on his lip, hope in his eyes and scent. “I suppose it’s obvious I must want him as my mate. When he’s older.”

 

“I’ll be 15 this solstice,” Stiles answers, grinning. “That’s just a month away.”

 

“And 16 at the solstice after, which seems like a good age for a mating. So yes, I agree. Talia, I would like to take Mieczysław as my mate.”

 

The sound of hands clapping and cheers nearly drowns out the last part of Peter’s sentence. He tries glaring, but no one seems to notice.

 

“Yes, I approve. Finally,” Talia says to the pack around them. They start to walk away, going back to their full moon celebration when Talia speaks again, stopping everyone. “Brett, I think we need a word.”

 

“Alpha?” he asks, and Stiles can hear his heart pounding. “Yes, ma’am?”

 

“Brett, I hope you do understand why you aren’t allowed to force people, even if you are in the process of courting. If Stiles – or whoever it might be – says “no,” that means they do not want to be with you physically. Do you understand?”

 

Brett nods vigorously, relief in his stance. “Oh, yes, ma’am. It wasn’t serious, it was just to get Peter to notice Stiles.”

 

“I see.” She pauses and cocks her head, squinting at Brett just a little. “You were manipulating him?”

 

“Maybe? A little, I guess? For a good reason!” Brett turns pale; he’s walking into a trap, but there’s no way out of it.

 

Talia raises her eyebrow almost into her hairline. “You were manipulating _my_ brother, your alpha’s brother, your pack’s protector so he would do what you, as a group, wanted?”

 

No one answers, because there is nothing to say to make this better.

 

“I’d say that’s a yes. But you can think about this some more tomorrow, when you’re taking care of the animals here.” She looks around at the group of friends still standing around the fountain, smiles dropping off their faces. “I think Peter needs another day off; he may need to sleep in tomorrow. You and your friends can clean out the stalls and take care of the animals.”

 

“I have… but I have to work in the other village,” Brett sputters, looking over his shoulder towards the woods, where his employer is one village over.

 

Talia’s smile doesn’t look very friendly and the tips of her fangs are over her lips. “Then I’d suggest you let them know you’ll be late tomorrow. You’ll have a lot of help, after all, your conspirators will be with you.”

 

“Us? We have to help?” Scott asks, looking around at their group of friends, who are all looking down and not at the alpha. “I need to work at Deaton’s tomorrow!”

 

“It can wait,” Deaton says calmly. “I’ll make sure your work is waiting for you to be done after the stables.”

 

Kira looks towards her parents with her eyes wide. “I don’t know what to do with horses. I’ve never taken care of horses.”

 

“You don’t know how to shovel waste and put down straw and follow basic orders?” She looks at Kira’s parents and sees them smiling. “I’d have thought with your parents keeping cows and goats you’d know a little how to do that.”

 

“Well, yes, Alpha, but…”

 

“Brett will tell you what needs to be done, I’m sure.” Talia looks at the group around her, including a careful look at her own two youngest. Laura’s standing just behind her, arms across her chest, mirroring her mother’s position. “Derek, Cora, you two will be helping as well, I assume?”

 

“Yes, mother,” Derek says, head hanging towards his chest. “We’ll be there early.”

 

Talia turns when Laura snorts. “Laura, you’ll be helping? So your uncle can have a day off?”

 

She holds up her hands and shakes her head, with her smile fake and full of teeth. “I had nothing to do with their childish plan, mother.”

 

“You didn’t?” Talia looks totally confused; if you didn’t know her, you might think it was an honest expression. “You weren’t part of the plan to encourage your uncle to find happiness with a mate he’s been pining over for years? You didn’t think his happiness was important?”

 

Laura steps back, sputtering while Talia just smiles blandly.  “I… I…”

 

“You’ll help your family and pack with taking care of the horses and cows tomorrow? Good idea,” she says.

 

“Cows? Why do we need to take care of the cows? Peter doesn’t take care of them.” Jackson looks at the pack and they don’t meet his eyes. Stiles would like to punch him again.

 

Talia smiles warmly at the Yakimuras and then her face goes cold as she turns back to Jackson. “I think the Yakimuras deserve a day of rest as well. Why, are you complaining about it, Jackson? Do you think they don’t deserve a day off? Be glad I’m not thinking of the pig’s pen.”

 

Wisely, Jackson says nothing and that seems to satisfy Talia. She smiles again then takes her husband’s hand. “I think we have a fresh rabbit waiting for us, David. You’ll join me in a snack?”

 

“I’d love to, dear, thank you.” Talia and David brush their heads against each other as they walk away, the regal alpha couple, leaders of their pack.

 

 

Peter approaches the bench where the pack is still gathered. They’re happy for Stiles, of course, but slightly shocked at what they’ll be doing tomorrow.

 

“Move,” he tells Lydia. She raises an eyebrow and slowly stands, moving closer to Jackson, who wraps a protective arm around her. Peter pulls Stiles towards him and sits, arranging the younger man across his lap, burying his nose in Stiles’ neck. “You’re horrible. Sneaky and bossy. And pushy.”

 

Stiles sighs, tilting his head so Peter can better scent him. “Sorry, I think. But you agreed, you know. And I’m only horrible and sneaky. You’re an idiot, Talia said so.”

 

Peter laughs and nips on Stiles’ neck. “You’re the idiot who wants me.”

 

“Of course I do, Peter, I’ve told you before. You’re my happily ever after.”


	12. The Man, the Wolf and the New Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue, five years later. 
> 
> Stiles and Peter go to find the offering from the village.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm overwhelmed by the comments and positive response on this fic. Thanks to everyone who has read and kudo'd or left a comment. Thanks for all the encouragement and I hope you like the ending.

The boy, who is no longer a boy, grabs his wolf’s hand and leads him towards the woods. “Come on Peter, we’re going to be late.”

The wolf rolls his eyes and catches up to his mate. “Coming, coming. I’m not sure why you’re so impatient.”

“You’re not? I guess my memory is better than yours.” Stiles checks the bag over his shoulder, making sure there’s water, bread, cheese, and fruit, along with a long-sleeves shirt in case whoever they find is cold. It might be too big, but at least it’s warm. He’s not sure who will be there, but he wants to be ready for anything.

“Of course, Mieczysław. Are you sure you want to do this, I can go with Talia. Or Scott. Or Deaton.” Peter leans over and kisses him on the temple, checking his scent. Stiles seems to be excited and nervous, but not in a bad way.

“No, I want to do this. I want to be sure whoever it is isn’t scared and…” he sighs and leans into Peter’s side. “I don’t know, I just know I need to do this.”

“Alright. Just…sometimes the children haven’t been terribly healthy. You were a delightful surprise. You always have been, but…”

“I know,” Stiles says, squeezing Peter’s hand and turning his head for a quick kiss. “That’s why we need to get there as soon as we can.”

 

They walk fast, thanks to Stiles, so it’s not long until the reach the clearing and they enter quietly so not to startle whoever is there. It’s a young boy, with tangled blond curls framing his face. He’s sitting with his head bent down, on the log that Stiles remembers ten years ago.

“Hello,” Stiles calls, staying at the far side of the clearing. “Good morning, how are you? My name is Stiles and this is my husband, Peter. Can you tell me your name?”

The boy looks up, and eyes them cautiously. There’s a yellowing bruise around one eye and his lip is cracked and swollen with what looks like a new injury.

Peter growls deep in his throat, and Stiles glances over his shoulder with a frown.

“Isaac,” the boy whispers, staring at Peter. “My name is Isaac. Are you… are you supposed to be here?”

Stiles nods and starts walking to the far end of the log, saying, “Yup. Is it okay if I sit down for a minute?

“Okay,” the boy nods, eyes moving between the two.

He looks tired and if Stiles had to pick a word it would be defeated. Stiles can’t wait to get him back home and fill him with warm soup and tuck him into a soft bed. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long. Are you hungry or thirsty? Or cold?” he asks, pulling out a flask of water and a warm hunk of bread with butter and cheese.

Isaac’s nose twitches, smelling the food and Stiles smiles handing it to him. “Go ahead, this is for you. It’s good cheese, nice and fresh.”

The boy takes a small bite, eyes brightening as he eats. “It’s good,” he says, talking around the mouthful of food.

“Take your time, you don’t need to rush. You don’t need to talk with your mouth full.” Stiles smiles at him to be sure there’s no sting in his words and hears Peter chuckle behind him.

“You’re one to talk, you’ve barely broken that habit.” He kneels next to Stiles by the far end of the log waiting until Isaac has finished his snack and licked the butter off his fingers. “So you’re going to come with us, to a village close to here. You’ll be well taken care of, little one.”

Isaac looks behind them, expression looking worried. “I was told there are wolves there. Have you seen them? Are they dangerous?”

The boy trades a look with his mate and says, “Yes, there’s wolves there, we’re called werewolves. And it’s safe and fun and you’ll have a family – called a pack – who will be there for you and take care of you and love you like you’ve always been our own.”

Isaac looks from Stiles to Peter and back again and there’s a light of hope in his eyes. Peter tries his hardest to keep from growling when he looks at the boy’s bruises.

Peter moves so he can kneel in front of this new boy, keeping arm’s length away so as not to frighten him. “My sister, Talia, is the leader of our pack. She’s called the Alpha. You’ll meet her today when we go home, to the village.”

“Tell me, Isaac, how old are you?” Stiles asks, holding his hand out towards Peter to join him on the log. It’s a bit softer than he remembers, starting to rot a bit, but still solid enough for two men and a small boy to sit on it.

The blond boy takes a drink of water that Stiles offers to him and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grimacing slightly. “I’m nine. I was nine on March 10.”

“Nine? When I was nine, I lived in your village. And then when I was ten, the villagers sent me away, just like you, to live with the wolves.” He reaches over and takes Peter’s hand, pressing on his palm, letting him know to show his claws. “At first I was scared because even though it was hard in the village, I knew it. Then I lived with the wolves and they took care of me and became my family.”

Stiles turns their joined hands so Isaac can see the silver bands around their ring fingers and lets his nails grow, too. “I found a family and a husband and a good life. Not too exciting, but excitement isn’t everything.”

“I’m exciting,” Peter raises an eyebrow and lets his fangs drop. “I’m a little exciting,” he says, smiling at Isaac. “Not too much though.”

“My silly wolf.” Stiles smiles at Isaac and stands, holding out his hand. “Do you think you’re ready to come with us to the village? We have a very nice home for you in our village and you’ll share it with a couple named Scott and Kira. Scott is my brother, and I lived with him when I first moved to the village. How does that sound?”

Isaac takes Stiles’ hand, turning it over to look at his regular, human nails. “Will they mind? Maybe there’s not enough room?”

“They won’t mind, it’s all they’ve been talking about. They have a room ready for you, and you’ll have your own bed and shelves and…” Stiles takes a breath, remembering his first day in the village and how he was overwhelmed with the generosity of everyone, even before he knew the word for it. “Come on now, Isaac, we have a ways to walk. If you get tired, tell us and one of us can carry you. You’ll see, wolves are strong.”

“I can walk.” Isaac lets Stiles pull him up and instantly winces, pulling up his right leg. “I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s just a little bruise, it’s fine.”

The wolves exchange a look and Stiles helps Isaac sit back down, while Peter kneels to examine his leg. Now that they’re looking, it’s obvious his ankle is swollen, black and blue.

“Honey, can you tell me what happened?” Stiles asks, turning Isaac’s face towards him while Peter quickly takes some of his pain, veins turning black. 

The relief in Isaac’s eyes is obvious, and then he looks surprised, looking down at Peter. “How? Did you do something?”

“Just making you feel a little better for our walk. How did you hurt yourself?” Peter waits until Isaac looks back to his mate before he rubs his arm, shaking out the bit of sting there.

Isaac looks down, his scent heavy with shame. “I tripped. I’m very clumsy and I trip a lot.”

Peter growls and Stiles whispers, “Hush, Wolf,” when Isaac pulls back. “He’s not angry with you, Isaac, he’s angry with whoever hurt you. But that’s for another day. Right now, we want you to heal and to come to our village and learn to be happy. Learn to be a child.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Peter stands and holds a hand out to Isaac. “Stiles is right, as usual. I think we should get back to our village. It’s a bit of a walk and when we’re there you can rest and have a meal and start your new life.”

Nodding, Isaac stands and takes a couple of steps. “It’s better, thank you, Peter. I can walk, I’m not a burden.”

Stiles shuts his eyes, remembering when he spoke like that. Peter gives him a smile, knowing what his mate thinks and then turns his back to Isaac, squatting down. “I can go faster than we can walk. It’s one of the things we wolves can do; you’ll learn more about it soon. Why don’t you get on my back and I’ll carry you?”

“I can walk. Thank you, but I can walk. I’m a big boy and too heavy to be carried,” Isaac answers, stepping back and sitting on the log.

Stiles smiles and quickly jumps on Peter’s back, wrapping his arms around the wolf’s neck. “You’re not too heavy! Peter’s strong, he’s one of the strongest wolves in our village! Show him, Peter!”

Peter laughs and runs around the log while Stiles pats his arms and laughs as well, checking to be sure Isaac is watching and looking for his smile.

“Ugh, you’re getting heavy now that you’re old!” Peter cries and topples him to the ground, where Stiles lays on his back, laughing.

“And you’re getting lazy in your old age!” He catches his breath and takes Peter’s hand to pull himself up. “See? Peter can carry you easily and I promise – I promise you he won’t drop you like he did me.”

Peter turns again and looks over his shoulder as he squats low enough for Isaac to crawl onto his back, wrapping his arms around Peter’s neck as Peter takes hold of his ankles, securing him and draining some more of his pain. “Ready, Isaac?”

They can both hear the boy gulp, but his scent isn’t scared – he’s excited. “I’m ready, Peter. Let’s go, Stiles.”

The older boy gives the younger boy a quick squeeze around the neck, starting to spread the familiar pack scent on their newest member. “Let’s go see if we can get you a better next chapter with our pack.”


End file.
